


My Kind of Love

by WillPJackson



Series: Not Like a Brother [3]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon typical references to drug use, Clustin, Declarations Of Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Fuzzy legal advice, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Background Relationships, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Set during s02e13 Bye, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillPJackson/pseuds/WillPJackson
Summary: Justin has his day in court and is finally reunited with Clay. After spending nearly a month apart, will they be able to pick up where they left off, or will circumstances force them to rethink everything?





	1. Another Kind of H

**Author's Note:**

> To say that this song by Leon Else has been stuck in the back of my mind for the past several months would only be a slight exaggeration. My preeminent memory of season 2 is THAT moment when Justin walks out of the gym during the dance, and probably the moment when this series was born.
> 
> I'm so excited to finally reach this point, I'm a little emotional, so please forgive the lack of total chapters right now as I am not quite sure yet how I am going to section everything out.
> 
> This particular work will venture beyond the end of season 2, so once season 3 debuts, all bets are off.

“Your honor, Bryce Walker was released on bail within hours of his arrest, and—Justin has been stranded in juvenile detention for almost a month.”

“I’m aware of the timeline.”

“The related case is complete as of today. Justin’s plea is in. The paperwork is done.”

“Understood, counselor, but as a minor, he has to be released _into_ custody.”

“We have been searching for Amber Foley for weeks, your honor. She’s nowhere to be found.”

“Keep looking. Until then, he’s remanded.” The judge banged his gavel, and called for the bailiff.

As the bailiff began to escort Justin out of the courtroom, Mrs. Jensen called out to him. “Hang on, Justin. We’re working on it.”

“I know,” Justin said, looking back at her. “Thank you.”

Although he trusted Mrs. Jensen, Justin hadn’t been surprised by the outcome. The morning had begun promisingly enough with an unscheduled burst of activity, being summoned to court first thing. With no visit from Mrs. Jensen to prep him, and news from his case worker that he was simply going to meet her at the courthouse, Justin dared to be optimistic. Even—hopeful. It would be his first visit back to court since his testimony, and during the agonizing van ride from juvie, he’d tried to temper his expectations.

He’d failed. By the time he had arrived at the courthouse, Justin was high on another kind of H, but just as dangerous—hope. It was the only thing that made sense. He had to be getting out. Bryce’s trial was done, his plea had been satisfied—what else was there?

Perhaps the sleep deprivation had gotten to him. After leaving Clay in the state he was in the day before, Justin could barely sleep through the night, and his cravings had returned with a vengeance. Not being able to be there for Clay, or even to see for himself how Jessica was doing in the aftermath of the trial, Justin made a choice. He hadn’t realized it then, but he’d started to trade one H for another. After nearly a month of escaping it, he finally chose to let himself believe it—he finally started to let himself hope again. He was gonna get out.

Justin soon learned of his mistake after arriving at the courthouse. He and his guard were apparently early, and as the minutes dragged on into an agonizing hour, and then some—with no Mrs. Jensen in sight, either—Justin was again reminded of his stupidity. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t going to plan. As he and his guard loitered in the holding lobby, the guard on his phone pretty much the whole time, Justin felt the inevitable crash coming. The higher the high, the lower the low. Somehow, Justin couldn’t remember the heroin being as bad as this.

Finally, when the lobby door opened and the bailiff summoned them, Justin felt a stubborn twinge of hope. The bailiff led him inside the courtroom, just like on the day he’d testified against Bryce, but when Justin spotted Mrs. Jensen standing at the defendant’s table—her poker face nowhere to be seen—he understood that today wasn’t going to be his day.

“I’m sorry, Justin,” she’d quickly uttered when he’d reached the table.

“For what?” 

“I tried to get us a different judge. Campbell has not moved on any of my petitions. Not once.” 

The judge had banged his gavel, calling on Mrs. Jensen to state her appeal. By the end of it, Justin realized she must have felt like a broken record, arguing against a wall. As Justin rode the van back to the detention center, he scoffed at himself. That was how the justice system really worked. One, or two hours waiting. All just for two minutes in court. The only comfort he found was knowing his mother was still out there in the wind somewhere. At least she was finally free, like she’d always wanted. Selfish bitch.

Justin shook his head. No, he didn’t have a right to think poorly of her. She’d never had it in her to be a real mom in the first place. Not when she didn’t have a clue who his dad was.

 _Fuck this day,_ Justin thought, _fuck hope. Fuck everything_. He was kind of looking forward to getting back to juvie. Based on all the evidence so far, it was the only solid thing he could really count on.

_Fuck everyone._

~             ~             ~

“Knock knock.”

Justin was lying on his bed with his head facing away from the entrance to his cell. He looked around to see Ren at the open gate.

“Justin,” he said, “what have I told you about skipping meals?”

Justin sighed. “Sorry,” he uttered.

Ren walked in and leaned against the wall. “I heard you were in court this morning. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Justin replied, shaking his head into his pillow.

“Well, something’s definitely happening, _hermano._ I was visiting Sir Hembree earlier today and he was working on your case file.”

Justin sat up. “We have the same case worker?”

“ _Si,_ although I wasn’t intentionally snooping. It was just there. You’re getting out, _hombre_.”

Justin eyed him. “How do you know that?”

Ren shrugged. “Well, I’ve seen it before. When kids get out, their case worker preps their exit interview. Mainly for the parents. But you said your folks weren’t around, so I was wondering what special strings you got pulled for ya.”

“Dude, please—tell me, you’re not fucking with me. I couldn’t—I really can’t take being fucked with right now.”

Ren laughed. “I am giving you genuine fucks right now, _hermano_. No fake fucks.”

Justin swung his legs off the bed and leaned forward to gaze at the floor. “The emergency custody thing must have finally worked.”

“Ah hah, so you do know what might be going on. Well, if that’s the case, I’d expect for you to be summoned tomorrow morning to Hembree’s office. He should be going through the spiel of the conditions for your release, blah blah blah, what you gotta do and don’t do in order not to wind up back in here.”

Justin looked up towards Ren. “What about you? Are you getting out?”

Ren shook his head. “Nah, not my time yet, _ese._ If it took this long for _you_ to get out, imagine what it’ll take for me.”

“Sorry,” Justin offered, shaking his head.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. Everyone leaves me in the end. But, I got you a parting gift. ‘Cause I like you.”

Ren walked up to him and casually held out his hand. Justin felt his stomach hitch when he saw in Ren’s hand two tiny plastic baggies, each with what looked like pills and a bit of paper inside one of them.

“The fuck?” Justin whispered, sitting back. “Are those—”

“They ain’t H,” he said quietly, quickly stashing the baggies underneath the pillow, “but they’ll get the job done. Cleanly, I might add.”

Justin shook his head. “Why would you give me this? _How_ did you get these?”

Ren gave him a look. “Seriously, man? Come on. We all need our filters, _hermano_. The world sucks. I don’t need to tell you that. We all got our own ways to cope, whether it be physical vices or mental gymnastics, or just plain willful ignorance.

“I got a guy on the outside who’ll hook you up. That way, you don’t have to worry about any dodgy dealers from your school, or wherever else you’d been getting it from. Trust me, if you’re not stressed about how to get it, the less likely you’ll end up back in here.”

Justin stared at his pillow. “How am I even supposed to get this out of here?”

Ren grinned. “Easy. Stick it in the toes of your sock. They’re not really checking you on your way out, anyway. Just don’t get caught with it until then, ‘kay?”

“Why would you enable me like this?”

Scoffing, Ren said, “We don’t eliminate our habits, _hermano_ , we replace them. I’d rather you get it from somebody I trust. It messes with your head, being back in the real world after being in a place like this for so long. I ain’t handicapping your chances—I’m giving you a head start.”

He held up his hands. “And look,” Ren went on, “if it was really that easy, just don’t take it, simple as that! Flush it down the toilet. I won’t be offended. Oh, but if you do contact my guy, let him know that your horcrux is missing. That way he’ll know I sent you.”

“My what?”

Ren gaped at him. “You—ain’t read _Harry Potter_ , Justin?”

“I’ve seen like—two of the films?”

Ren hung and shook his head. “Damn, you better fix that when you get out of here, _hermano_ , or I’ll _really_ come after you. Horcrux: h-o-r-c-r-u-x.” He smiled, then held out his hand. Justin took it, and they improvised a handshake. “Look out for yourself, Foley.”

And with that, Ren left the cell. As Justin looked back at his pillow, a part of him wanted to immediately flush the baggies down the toilet. Another part screamed at him to do what Ren said. Hang onto it. Just in case.

Maybe Ren was right. Justin wouldn’t be able to do it all on his own. He’d already seen how dangerous hope was alone. Maybe, with a careful mix of the two, he’d find stability.

Yet, he’d gone almost a month without it already. _(And how much did that fucking suck?)_ His recovery meetings were largely a joke, anyway. He’d take the baggies, but he could go without them. _(Just a little bit won’t hurt.)_ A test, to prove his willpower. Or a pick-me-up whenever he got too low. Yeah, he could do this.

He took off his shoe and sock, then reached under his pillow. He pulled the baggy out and dropped it into his sock before sliding it back on his foot. Even when he put his shoe back on (which was slightly too big for him, anyway) he could barely feel a thing.

Yeah, he could make this work. It gave him peace of mind, anyway, knowing it was close. And that was good enough.

For now.

Even if he might regret this later.


	2. Bye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin makes it to Hannah's wake.

“This is only temporary, you know.”

Justin was sitting forward in the chair, trying to focus on his case worker’s words. Simon Hembree. Justin wasn’t sure how he’d missed the name all the other times, with the ID badge hanging from Mr. Hembree’s shirt pocket. He was the first person he saw in here, the first person to really tell him what was going on. Now that Justin was leaving, and that Mr. Hembree seemed to be doing this for the last time for him, Justin felt a pang of guilt for never having learned his name earlier. He was going to miss him.

It was still hard to focus, though. Justin had slept no better last night, anxious from Ren’s prediction the previous day, and he had feared going through another cycle and crash from another hit of hope. Never had Justin been so grateful for his morning routine to be interrupted when the guard showed up to his cell just after breakfast delivery.

“What happens when it expires?” Justin asked.

“You get put in the system. As a ward of the state, that means foster care.” Mr. Hembree flipped a page in Justin’s file. One of many in the mounds covering the desk. “Since it looks like, here, that you won’t be eighteen for nearly a year, you’ll get put into a group home, and you’ll have to transfer schools.”

Justin nodded, although his head was foggy. Most of the information and their implications were too thick to see into right now.

“What should I do, then?”

Mr. Hembree sighed. “Honestly? I hope your mother comes back.”

Justin scoffed. “That’s not going to happen.” He tried to ignore the look of pity on the other man’s face.

“Well, in any case, I hope I don’t see you again, Justin. Because if I did, that’d mean you’d be back in here. You won’t officially be released until twelve forty-five, today, so, you still have your morning periods to attend. That includes your recovery meeting.”

“Hooray,” Justin sighed.

“Sorry,” Mr. Hembree offered. “You need to make sure you keep going to those, as well, somehow and somewhere. They’re another condition for your release.”

Justin couldn’t help wiggling his big toe against the baggie in his left sock. “Don’t worry. I think I’ll be okay there, at least.”

Mr. Hembree went on to reiterate the importance of his grades and finishing his schooling—properly. The state, in the grand scheme of things, was being lenient with him. He was running out of chances.

Justin merely nodded and smiled. He couldn’t help thinking of Bryce, and just how leniently he’d gotten off, and Justin couldn’t keep his lips from warping into a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I’m used to getting the short end of the stick.”

Mr. Hembree regarded Justin thoughtfully before standing up and walking around the desk to open the door. “You’re a good kid. I really believe that,” he said, revealing the guard waiting outside for them. “Just make sure your choices reflect that, all right?”

~             ~             ~

“I can’t believe you’re getting out before me,” V said, sighing dramatically as he casually dribbled his basketball. “And all I did was try to knock off a gas station.”

“I thought you said you were in for a hit and run?” Justin said, also dribbling a basketball. They were hanging out near their usual spot in the indoor gym by the makeshift basketball court.

“Well, to be fair, that was also when I told you my name was Charlie.”

Justin’s last recovery meeting was short and sweet. No new members, no introductions to make. Only news of Justin’s imminent release, which had brought mostly enthusiastic applause from the other members. Dr. Elliott had seemed genuinely pleased, though, offering hearty congratulations and a stern warning not all that unlike the one he’d gotten from Mr. Hembree that morning. With an early finish, Dr. Elliott had dismissed everyone to lunch and recreation period early.

Laughing, Justin said, “Well, I still think of you as V, anyway.”

V put a hand on his chest. “I’m touched. Glad I made a lasting impression. Anyway, you said they still haven’t found your mom, so where are you going? Are you getting put in a home? If that were the case, honey, I’d rather stay in here.”

Justin shook his head. “No, I’m going to be staying with a—a friend.” Justin caught himself as he held the basketball between his hands.

V gave Justin a scandalized look. “Okay—so is this a _girl_ friend, or a _guy_ friend?”

Justin forced a laugh, feeling his cheeks burn. “We’re—honestly, I don’t know what we are.”

“Bitch, why didn’t you tell me you played for both teams? We could’ve been getting our aggressions out in other ways all this time!”

“I don’t!” Justin insisted.

“Yeah, I get it. You’re not my type, anyway,” V said, grinning. “Seriously, though, how do you two not know what you are? Is it ‘cause of the girl?”

“It’s—it’s complicated, okay? We haven’t really had a chance to talk.”

V began to line up a shot, prepped the ball, and made a dunk. “Okay, how’s this for our last game? I win, you tell him how you really feel.”

Justin chuckled. “What if _I_ win?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Stay in the closet. Be a boring heterosexual for the rest of your life.”

Justin also attempted a dunk, and his shot bounced off the rim. As he chased after the ball, he said to V, “Well, I think we both know already what my odds are.”

V laughed.

~             ~             ~

It was almost surreal, handing over his orange jumpsuit for the last time. He was given a set of dark clothes—donations—to change into before being given his belongings back in a large transparent bag. Clay’s suit, now in a hopeless ball of wrinkles, along with his wallet and phone, which was somehow not dead. Maybe someone had plugged it in to charge, or had turned it off along the way. It had a recent message from Mrs. Jensen:

_Hang tight. I’m on my way._

And it had another older message from Clay, around two weeks ago, sent just before midnight:

_I know you can’t see this, but I hope you’re ok. Thinking of you._

And there was another from him from a few days ago, in the early morning:

_Just getting this out into the universe. You’re coming home soon._

Home. Justin couldn’t help grinning at the thought of Clay texting him while they were apart. Maybe Clay thought Justin would somehow get access to his phone. Perhaps, with Ren’s help, it could’ve been possible.

In any case, Hannah’s service was today, and that must have been where the Jensens were. As Justin sat in the holding lobby, clutching his things like a pillow, he couldn’t stop his legs from twitching. He was probably missing the service right now, and he fucking hated it. Would Clay have decided to speak? What would he be saying? Would he still be haunted by Hannah’s ghost? Or would it be the last time?

As the minutes dragged on, Justin tried to keep things in perspective. What was another hour or so, after almost a month? He was in the homestretch, and it was that final push to the finish that was always the hardest.

It was tough to keep his toes from wiggling. The baggies had shifted slightly during his game with V, but not enough to warrant risking an adjustment and discovery. Was this a mistake, bringing them into the Jensens’ home again, after all they’d done? Justin could sense the answer gnawing at the inside of his stomach, but now that he had a supply, he was too afraid to let it go. What if Ren was right? What if he couldn’t stop himself, and fucked things up trying to get more from a dodgy source somewhere else?

The lobby door opened—and in walked Mrs. Jensen, dressed in all black. Yup, definitely funeral attire. Justin tossed his stuff on the chair beside him and shot up to his feet. It was hard to believe. The moment was finally here. Mrs. Jensen gazed at him, a look of remorse on her face, as Justin gradually trekked across the lobby to meet her. After the last few steps, he couldn’t help practically lunging at her, as if for dear life, to hug her with all of his being.

“Thank you,” he whispered, barely keeping the tears back.

Mrs. Jensen hugged him back. “You don’t need to thank me,” she uttered. “I only wished we could’ve gotten you out sooner.”

After parting, Justin returned to retrieve his things before they left the lobby and walked out of the building. With juvie behind them, Justin really wanted to turn around and give it the finger, but he decided not to push his luck. When they were back on the road, Justin couldn’t help gazing out into the clear blue sky and take in the beautiful sunny weather. What a difference it was to see it in the front seat of a Prius and not through the bleak rear windows of a cargo van.

“Were you coming from Hannah’s service?” Justin eventually asked. They’d just crossed onto the highway.

“Yes. Hannah’s wake is happening soon at Monet’s. I thought we could head straight there, unless you want to stop home first.”

Home. Justin couldn’t help latching onto the word, again. It was something, to hear Mrs. Jensen say it. “No,” Justin said, “I’d like to go straight there. I don’t want to miss anymore of anything.”

After a moment, Justin asked, “Did Clay speak? At the service.”

“Yes, he did. He—he did a really beautiful job. He said you’d helped him with it. Did you give him that quote?”

“What quote?”

“About still being able to love someone, while letting them go?”

Justin swallowed. “No, no, that wasn’t me.”

“Well, I think he did Hannah justice. Truly.”

Justin steadied his leg. It had been twitching. “I probably shouldn’t ask right now, but, how did you finally get me out?”

Mrs. Jensen glanced at him. “You deserve to know that. Don’t be afraid to ask. I figured we would discuss it later, but, my petition for your release into emergency custody was finally granted. Dennis was able to pull some favors and get another judge to consider it. There was a twenty-four hour minimum holding period, though, which was why you still had to be held when you did. But—discretion offers judges a wide berth, and while your situation may not normally constitute an emergency circumstance, your time spent on the streets, your missed schooling, and your recovery were all factors that ultimately swayed the judge.”

“So that was the long shot?”

“Yes. Discretion—it gives judges room to make the right call. We lawyers like to call it the big D.”

They laughed. “So,” Justin said, “when you said Dennis, you meant, like, the lawyer from the school trial?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ve told you yet, but I’ve since left my firm and joined with Dennis’—to work on cases like Jessica’s, and yours.”

Holy shit. “Wow, was—was that, was that recent?”

“Relatively recent,” she said, offering Justin a smile, “but it was something I’d been contemplating for a long time.”

Justin thought back to his meeting with Mr. Hembree. “My case worker said this—that my release was only temporary. What happens after?”

“We’re working on that,” Mrs. Jensen said simply, and she rubbed his shoulder briefly. “Let’s not worry about that for right now.”

Justin couldn’t think of anything else to ask about, so they were quiet for the remainder of the ride. It wasn’t long, though, before they’d taken the exit off the highway and were on familiar streets again. As Mrs. Jensen found a side street to parallel park into an open space, Justin noticed all the cars packing the usually quiet neighborhood.

“It’s like everyone’s here,” Justin remarked as they exited the car.

“Yes, it looks like a great turnout,” Mrs. Jensen agreed, and they began walking towards the café.

Inside looked to be packed. As he and Mrs. Jensen stepped inside, the giant mural on the wall dedicated to Hannah caught Justin’s eye. At first, he only saw a few he recognized amongst the crowd, like Mr. Baker, Courtney, Tony—and then Jess and Alex, sitting at a table together.

_“Yo, DUDE!”_

Somehow, Justin had missed Zach all the way in the back, but in practically a flash, he was across the café and lugging Justin off his feet into one giant bear hug.

“Oh my god, you’re crushing me!” Justin exclaimed, laughing and hugging him back.

After setting him back down, Zach said, “Hey, you’re, like, down to nothing. We gotta get you on a program.”

Justin nodded. “Okay, sure.” He glanced towards Mrs. Jensen, who’d just walked towards Mr. Jensen. And Clay.

“How the fuck did Bryce only get three months and you got six?” When Justin shrugged, Zach went on, “Aren’t you pissed?”

Justin glanced over again to see Mr. Jensen coming towards them. “I guess I just wasn’t surprised.”

“Justin,” Mr. Jensen called. Zach patted Justin’s arm and said they’d catch up later.

“Welcome back,” Mr. Jensen said, and opened his arms as if for a hug. Justin chuckled, and they hugged. When they parted, Justin spotted Clay appearing from behind his dad.

“Hey, Justin,” the boy said quietly.

Justin forced a laugh. “Hey,” he said. Was that it? He opened his arms because apparently hugging was a thing, but quickly closed them when Clay didn’t seem to go for it.

“Can I get you anything?” Mr. Jensen asked Justin.

Trying to swallow his embarrassment, Justin said, “I could really go for a hot chocolate.”

“Sure thing,” Mr. Jensen said, heading for the bar.

Justin followed Clay towards a table by the window where Mrs. Jensen was sitting. After they sat, Clay asked Justin, “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Justin answered, nodding slightly. “How are you?”

“Same, I think,” Clay said, also nodding slightly.

Mrs. Jensen seemed to exchange looks with Clay as they sat. After a moment, Mr. Jensen appeared with Justin’s hot chocolate. “Thank you,” Justin said, and took a sip, trying to ignore the weirdness going on at the table after Mr. Jensen stepped away.

Clay’s mom turned her attention towards the others in the café. “It’s so nice that everyone came.” Clay looked up at her, and gave her a flat smile. “Maybe I should, uh,” she went on, “leave the two of you alone to catch up?” Another look between them. “Maybe you have some things to talk about.”

Clay seemed to wake up from his daze. “Yes,” he said, nodding, “yeah, there are.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Jensen said. She gave Justin a quick smile before standing with her purse and stepping away from the table.

Justin watched her walk away before turning his attention back towards Clay. “What—what things?” he said, leaning forward against the table. He was trying really hard to ignore the anxiety burrowing deep into the pit of his stomach.

Clay seemed to be bracing himself. Oh god, what was this? “So, umm,” he began, clearing his throat, “I think my mom explained to you how she got you released—into emergency custody?”

“Yeah, she explained it.”

“The thing is, that’s—only temporary. And, because you’re not eighteen for almost a year, once that expires, you become a ward of the state.”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, the—the social worker told me about that.”

“Okay, yeah. And there’s only like, two group homes in this county you’d be eligible for, and you couldn’t finish school at Liberty—and stuff. And my parents—I mean, _me_ , and my parents…”

When Clay hesitated, Justin almost couldn’t bear it. _Spit it out, Jensen!_

“…wanted to see if you might want them to—adopt you.”

Justin froze. He forced a laugh. What? “Wait, _what?”_

“Like—adopt you. Into our family.”

“Uh, you mean, like I’d—I’d be your _brother?”_

“Well, I, I’m not familiar—with all the lingo, but—”

“Wait,” Justin interrupted, “and why are _you_ asking me and not them?”

Clay seemed to shuffle his head around slightly for the answer. “Because it was their idea, to be honest. And at first, I thought it sounded, um—a little crazy—and—they left it up to me, seeing as I was the person who brought you in their life in the first place. And—maybe it’s a good idea, so…”

Justin sat back, the anxiety in his stomach exploding into an overwhelming flood of emotions inside of him. Wow. Holy shit. He was not expecting this. He was not expecting this at all. This hit him so far out of left field, he couldn’t stem the tears making his vision start to blur.

“Are you—you crying?”

Justin sniffled. Fuck, this was a lot to take in. “You know I’m, like, really fucked up, right?”

“Well—A, yes.” Justin laughed. “But you’re clean,” Clay went on, “and you’re going to meetings. And B, I’m also fucked up in certain ways, so…”

When Clay trailed off, Justin forced a smile onto his face. “Okay, yeah,” he said quietly, blinking a tear from his eye. “I’d like to be adopted, yeah.”

“Okay,” Clay said, “cool.”

Justin grabbed his mug to sip some more of his hot chocolate. After a moment, Clay stood up and patted him on the shoulders as he walked past Justin, presumably to tell his folks that he’d delivered the news and that Justin had accepted. He watched Clay walk away before letting his gaze linger on Jess and Alex at the other table. They were laughing together. Justin forced himself to look back at the empty table before him.

He clutched his mug, still reeling. This explained, at least, partly why Clay had been acting so weird. The Jensens wanted to adopt him. _Him._ The fucking addict screwup. It was one thing to get him out of juvie. It was a whole other level to want to bring him completely into their family. He couldn’t even begin to untangle the ball of emotions spinning around inside his head, yet in spite of his shock and giddiness, something else started to dampen his relative high.

What did this mean for him and Clay—and what they’d started before he was arrested? _What_ did they even start? And was it already finished?

Brothers. Clay might not have known the lingo, but if Mr. and Mrs. Jensen were going to adopt Justin, that would make him Clay’s fucking brother. The fuck were they going to do? Clay had been too kind—this was fucking crazy, all things considered. Idiotic, even.

Justin didn’t know how to feel about that. He and Clay had never had a chance to really talk about what they were doing, what was happening between them, and now this? He’d already fallen for Clay—that much Justin knew—but to live just as brothers? Justin wasn’t sure if he could handle that. Or if he’d even want to.

He’d still be a part of the family, though. Would that be enough? _Shouldn’t_ that be enough, after everything else the Jensens have done for him?

“Hey.”

Justin looked up, startled. It was Jessica.

“Hey,” Justin quickly said.

“Sorry, I, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She glanced towards the chair. “Is it okay if I sit?”

Justin forced a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He took a deep breath, and quickly tried to wipe his eyes as Jess sat.

She gazed at him for a moment. “Are you all right?”

Justin nodded, swallowing his tears. “Yeah, yeah, I’m all right. Just—thinking, that’s all.” He gazed back at her. “How are you doing?”

Jess smiled. “I’m good, actually. Really good.”

“Yeah?” Justin said, smiling back at her.

“Yeah,” Jess repeated. “It’s all over. _Finally_. I—I finally feel like there’s actually— _closure_ , you know? Okay, maybe not closure, but—but peace, maybe? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Justin agreed, with a few quick nods. “It totally does.”

“Not just with Bryce, but with Hannah, too.”

“Yeah. I wish I could’ve been there. At the service.”

“Well, you’re here now. That’s what counts.” They smiled at each other. After a moment, Jess went on, “So, I know you just got out, but, were you planning on going to the dance tomorrow? Did you hear about it, the ‘Spring Fling’?”

Justin felt his heart stutter. “Yeah, I heard about it. I—I’m not sure yet.”

Jess averted her eyes downward. “Alex and I are going. I just—figured it’d be nice for you to go, you know?” She looked back at him. “As your first big thing back. That you aren’t hiding.” She smiled.

Justin managed a smile in return. “Yeah.”

She turned to look at someone and stood quickly as a girl approached their table. Nina. “Oh my god, hi!” Jess squealed as they embraced each other. After they parted, Jess grasped Justin’s shoulder and he waved her and Nina goodbye as they headed towards the bar. Justin looked around to see Clay watching him from a chair across the café, but the boy quickly looked away.

Justin stood, grabbing his mug of hot chocolate, before heading towards Clay. He patted Jensen on the arm before sitting on the empty sofa beside him. If anything, Justin was gonna act cool, at least.

“You and Jess have a chance to talk?” Clay asked.

“Yeah, a little.”

Clay seemed to be mostly in deep thought, still. Justin couldn’t blame him, considering the day. He looked towards Jess and Nina at the bar, talking, and wasn’t able to steer his eyes away. Jess finally met his gaze for a few moments, and only after she looked away did Justin finally do the same. He swallowed the bittersweet taste in his mouth and decided to lay back and spread himself out across the sofa. Justin couldn’t imagine being even more unsure of himself at that moment, but as he thought of Jess, and as he thought of Clay, he only grew more confused.

“You gonna go to this dance?” Justin said aloud. He only half-expected Clay to answer.

“What, the—Spring Fling thing? Why in the world would I go to that?”

“I don’t know.” Justin glanced at Clay. “It, it might be fun?”

“I don’t go to dances,” Jensen said, shaking his head. There he was. That was the Clay Justin knew, at least. “You can go,” Clay offered.

“No,” Justin whined. “I just thought that it—it’d be my first thing back. And I could—show people that I’m not, like, hiding—or whatever.” Clay eyed him for a moment. Justin clicked his tongue before looking away. “Forget it.”

He heard Clay sigh. “Fuck. Fine,” he scoffed, “we’ll go!”

Justin couldn’t help smiling at Clay. Chuckling, Justin wondered if it was always gonna be this easy to bring the boy out of his shell.

Especially compared to everything else ahead of them. No way were they all going to be as easy.

Mrs. Baker was walking up to them. Actually, she was heading towards Clay, who stood up to greet her.

“I should be on my way,” she said.

Justin tried really hard not to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help hearing that Hannah’s mom was planning to move to New York. And that Hannah had written another list—reasons why _not_.

“You’re on there,” Mrs. Baker said to Clay, “at least once, possibly—twice. Did, did she call you, ‘helmet’?”

Justin felt another hitch in his throat. Helmet. He hadn’t heard that nickname since Hannah’s tapes. Her nickname for Clay. Justin smiled. What a fucking perfect nickname for him.

“Eleven reasons,” Mrs. Baker went on. “She came up—just short. But she left so many out. You know that, don’t you? No matter—how many reasons there might be, ‘why’, there are _always_ more, ‘why not’?”

“I do,” Clay said.

Justin watched them embrace briefly before ripping his gaze away towards elsewhere. Despite what she’d done, Hannah still brought everyone together in the end. Mrs. Baker and Clay talked about wishing they’d known each other while Hannah was alive, and Justin thought to how things might be different if he and Bryce had never met. Or if Bryce had never taken Justin under his wing as he did. For the moment, at least, it was easier to speculate what might have been—instead of what was to come. Instead of how Clay had been coping on his own this past month.

Instead of how many times the thought had crossed Justin’s mind, and how many times the same must have happened to Clay.

Fuck, Justin was going to have a family now. A real family. That’s what mattered.

Even if it wasn’t exactly what he really wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to seem preachy, but I wanted to include Clay's moment with Hannah's mom because she's right. There are always more reasons why NOT.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay return, together, after a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose I should forecast the direct depiction of drug use as it is shown on the series.

Justin had settled on top of Clay’s always well-made bed, digging into an issue of _Alien Killer Robots._ He couldn’t find the _Star Wars_ issue he’d started nearly a month ago, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he remembered what issue he was on, anyway. Clay had very clearly tidied up the room for his return, and Justin didn’t want to mess that up. He heard footsteps approaching, and assumed it to be Clay. Justin looked up from the comic just as the boy started to speak.

“So, it turns out the sushi place doesn’t, in fact, deliver, so my dad and I are gonna pick it up. You wanna—come?”

Justin thought for a moment. It was a tempting offer, or would have been, in some alternate timeline. “Nah, I’m—I’m good, here.” He waved the comic in his hands. “These are kind of addictive.”

Clay chuckled. “Yeah, right?” After lingering for a moment, he asked, “You okay? You seem—weird.”

A flare of anger shot through Justin, but he managed to swallow it as he shrugged. “I guess maybe I’m—happy?”

“Oh,” Clay uttered. “Cool.” With that, Jensen turned and left the room.

Justin stared down blankly past the comic in his hands, his previous surge of anger rapidly cooling into a sobering chill of despair. So that’s how it was gonna be, huh? He and Clay were gonna be brothers now, so they just weren’t—ever going to speak of what they did before, and a little during, his time in lockup, was that right?

How long had Clay known about the adoption idea? It had to have been recent. Justin never noticed a change during his visits, but then again, he’d only seen Clay a total of four times over the past month. Looking back now, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Did it really happen? Was Ren right? Had lockup messed with his head so much that he’d imagined everything that had happened with Clay?

Knowing Justin was going to be adopted had to have changed how Clay felt. Or maybe, it had been his testimony at Bryce’s trial. Or maybe, their time away from each other made Jensen come to his senses. Justin wasn’t sure when Clay had changed his mind, but he was sure, at least, of one thing: he had to numb this fucking feeling.

Justin set the comic aside and got off the bed. Slowly, he pushed the door shut, holding the knob open so that it wouldn’t shut as loudly, before gently locking the door.

When they’d gotten home, Justin had found his bag under Clay’s bed exactly as he’d remembered leaving it. All the time Justin was gone, Clay had never dug through the bag. Trusting, naïve Jensen had never found his gear.

As he moved to dig underneath Clay’s bed, Justin felt a twinge of regret at having to drag it out again so soon. He’d only pulled it out earlier to stash Ren’s contribution away for safe keeping. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t touch it again. But as Justin methodically unfurled the gray T-shirt hiding his critical supplies in plain sight—his needles, his syringes, his mixing bottle, the pills—he realized that his promises were no good. They never were.

After pulling off his socks and crushing a few pills into the small plastic bottle, Justin filled up the syringe. He could almost feel his entire body, down to nearly every cell, craving the impending rush. But it wasn’t the high he was after. It was the numbness. The relief. The only comfort he’d quickly learned that he could ever rely on.

He moved to inject when he spotted someone on the couch across the room. A child.

Himself.

Justin hesitated. He gazed at himself, his younger self, for a moment. Typical. It wasn’t Clay. It wasn’t Jess, or the Jensens, or even his mom. It had to be himself. Who was he letting down the most by using again? Himself. Even his imagination had to be cliché.

But even then, every cliché was rooted in truth.

Fuck this. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t being haunted by a ghost.

Or was he?

Whatever. He was used to letting down the people around him. Why should it be any different with himself? Justin inserted the needle in between his toes, and gradually pressed on the syringe. Within seconds, he felt the caress of an old friend swathe over him.

After a few moments, as he felt himself leveling out, Justin let out a deep sigh. Yeah, if he’d have to relive his whole life again, just for this moment, it’d be worth it.

_So_ worth it.

~             ~             ~

Dinner was livelier than Justin was used to in a long time. Clay and his parents talked news, sports, movies—things that _weren’t_ about trials or legal proceedings—and Justin found himself actively joining in. Okay, maybe it was due in part to his refreshed filter, but Justin felt a lot better, all things considered. Sushi was delicious. And he was home. _Home._

It had been a late dinner, and a very long day, so an early night in was sorely overdue. Clay offered Justin the shower first, and he’d obliged the boy. This time, Justin dressed in the bathroom to avoid any awkward scenarios, and as he entered Clay’s room, Jensen seemed to be thinking the same way, already dressed in his sleepwear.

When Clay left the room, Justin glanced at the bed, and the cleared off couch, before chuckling to himself. Okay, they weren’t going to go through _that_ again. Justin dug through the closet for the extra pillow and covers, then grabbed the issue of _Alien Killer Robots_ that he’d started earlier before settling onto the couch. After a short while, the door opened again.

“So, I’m pretty sure my dad was serious when he said he would…”

Justin glanced up at Clay when he trailed off. Jensen had stopped in his tracks, the towel around his neck.

“When he would, what?”

“What are you doing?”

Justin shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you on the couch?”

Anger flared inside of Justin again as he let the comic drop against his chest. “Seriously, Clay? We’re gonna go through this again?” he exclaimed. “Where the _fuck else_ would I be?”

Clay pursed his lips and stormed towards the closet to toss the towel inside. “You know what, Justin? Fine. Do what you want. I’m sorry I asked.”

Justin scoffed. “Clay, what—”

Jensen stormed back across the room and clicked off the lights. He then threw himself into bed, pulling the covers over him before turning his back on Justin.

Justin hadn’t expected his impatience to spill over so easily, and seeing Clay upset immediately stifled his anger, leaving only regret.

“I’m sorry,” Justin offered. When he got no response, Justin gazed up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything else to say. He only drew blanks.

“It’s been a long-ass day,” Clay eventually said. “Let’s just sleep, okay?”

Justin didn’t say anything back right away. He debated the choice, to let things lie for the night. What was another night, anyway, after almost a whole month? He tried to swallow it, letting the minutes tick by, but he couldn’t do it. Not when they were finally in the same room together. Alone.

“You said I’d seemed weird earlier,” Justin said gently, “but you’ve been weird with me the whole day.”

Clay turned onto his back and looked towards the ceiling, too. “I know. I just—I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“I get that. I really do. I just wish you—you’d thrown me a lifeline. Or _something_.”

The boy scoffed. “In case you didn’t realize it, yet—I suck at this.”

“No,” Justin said, “this, it’s new. For the both of us.”

“Well, that’s not just it. I also kinda figured, you know, we’d wait to talk until, like, now. Like what we’re doing. I mean, I honestly wasn’t sure how you were going to react to the news today.”

“When did your folks tell you?”

“Only just this week. Earlier in the week. It—kinda threw my head in for a loop. On top of everything else.”

Justin cleared his throat. “I’m, I’m really sorry I wasn’t at Hannah’s service. I really, really wanted to be there.”

Clay turned his head and looked at him across the room. “That’s not your fault, Justin. Don’t apologize. Not for that. You couldn’t help that.”

Justin met his gaze. “Your mom said you did right by Hannah. Do you—did you feel like you said what you needed to say? Did you get what you needed for—closure, I guess?”

Clay looked back up at the ceiling. It was a moment before he answered. “Yeah. I think—I think I did.”

No more ghosts? Justin wanted to ask. Instead, after another moment, he said, “Were you pissed I chose the couch?”

Clay chuckled. “I—honestly, I wasn’t sure what you were gonna do. I guess I was just, just hoping you’d surprise me.”

At that, Justin tossed off his sheets and walked across the room towards Clay’s bed. Clay watched him approach, clearly suppressing a smile.

“What are you doing?” the boy asked.

“Scoot over.”

Clay looked up at him, solemn. “I don’t wanna make you do anything—you don’t want to do.” When Justin gave him a look, Clay finally shifted towards the other side of the bed. Justin slid underneath the covers and pulled them over himself before turning to face Clay. With still a few inches separating them, Clay turned to face him back.

Justin looked at him, and Clay looked back. It was funny, in a way, but neither of them was laughing. Not like before. When they were last here.

“Would brothers—share a bed?” Justin uttered.

“Yeah,” Clay whispered, “I, I suppose they—could.”

“Would brothers—would brothers cuddle?”

Clay’s lips quivered. Was it a smile, almost? “Maybe. If, if they were—cold.”

A brief laugh escaped Justin. He so wanted to reach out, to touch Clay, but he held back.

“Would brothers—do what… Would they do the things you’d imagined us doing—while I was away?”

Clay turned and looked up at the ceiling. “No, they—probably wouldn’t. I mean, _definitely_ , wouldn’t.” He let out a long sigh. Justin turned onto his back, then sighed with him.

Justin was ready to say something, like maybe this wasn’t a good idea, when Clay suddenly turned towards him and nestled beside him.

“Fuck, we’re not brothers yet, officially,” Clay muttered into Justin’s chest. “I don’t—I don’t know what we’re gonna do, Justin. My brain is completely fried. But I do know this—I’ve fucking missed you, and I’ve waited too fucking long to feel you next to me again, and I wanna fucking hold you as I fall asleep. Is that too much to ask?”

As he wrapped his arms around Clay, Justin couldn’t help the grin on his face. “I don’t think so,” Justin replied gently.

“I’m so tired,” Clay groaned.

Justin squeezed him tighter. “Let’s get you a good night sleep then, huh?”

As he held Clay, Justin shut his eyes and tried to focus on the boy’s breathing. Justin wasn’t as tired as he thought he’d be, but feeling Clay’s warmth beside him was quickly coaxing the last remnants of energy out of him. They were back to square one, almost, but he could live with that, at least for the night.

With Clay beside him, Justin could wait for anything. Forever. And beyond.


	4. Not Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay spend the day getting ready for the dance.

Justin awoke to light snoring. He was on his side, and felt a set of arms around him as he took in the bright sunlight illuminating the room. He felt Clay right behind him, spooning him, and when Justin turned gently to look behind him, the boy still seemed to be fast asleep.

Who would have thought that Clay would have clung to him so closely through the night? More so, who’d have thought Justin could sleep so soundly next to another person? Jess would always cuddle with Justin, but she could never fall asleep if they were so close together. For as much sex as he’d had, Justin was still relatively new to cuddling. Spooning. Whatever this was called.

Shifting only ever so slightly, Justin managed to reach Clay’s phone on the night stand to find that it was almost half past nine. This was sleeping in for Justin. How late could Clay go?

Clay suddenly grasped him tighter, and mumbled something under his breath. It’d almost sounded like, _Don’t go._ But as Clay shifted behind him, Justin realized something else—a part of the boy—was wide, _wide_ , awake.

Justin tried to turn over, but Clay wouldn’t budge. “Clay?”

The boy’s breathing hitched, and the snores stopped. Clay let go of him and started to shift, giving Justin room to turn around. As Clay stretched and let out a long, deep groan, Justin laughed.

“Morning, sleepy.”

Clay let out another groan. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost nine-thirty.”

“What?” Clay squeaked, turning away from Justin. “That’s illegal. Wake me up when it’s noon.”

“What?” Justin mimicked, then chuckled. “That’s _so_ late!”

“Mmm,” was all he got out of Clay. Justin turned onto his side, wanting to spoon Clay, but he held back. Instead, he asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

Clay exhaled deeply, then turned onto his back to face Justin. “Yeah, I did,” he said. “Did you?”

“I did,” Justin said. He smiled at Clay. When the boy smiled back at him, Justin went on, “Were you dreaming about something, just now?”

Shaking his head, Clay said, “Maybe? I don’t know.”

Justin gazed at Clay’s lips. After a moment, Clay seemed to noticed, and licked them reflexively. “I guess,” Justin said, “we _could_ sleep in a little more. Or…”

“Or—what?”

Justin met his eyes for a brief moment once more before leaning in for a kiss. Clay let escape a soft noise, so Justin started slow, coaxing his lips along to see if he would respond. And he did. Clay reached to grasp the back of Justin’s neck, and they dug deeper in the kiss as Justin savored the raw taste and intensity of Clay’s tongue and lips. He grasped Clay’s chest and could almost feel the boy’s rising heart rate. He started to slide his hand down Clay’s stomach when Clay drew back from their kiss.

“Fuck,” the boy sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment.

Justin brought his hand back up closer towards Clay’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, gently thumbing the boy’s cheeks. He glanced down towards Clay’s crotch. “I thought morning Clay would be a little more into it today, after all this time.”

Clay forced a brief laugh. “Believe me, my—my body wants it. No denying that. It’s just… Well, doesn’t it—hasn’t it messed with your head? This whole adoption thing?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Doesn’t it—weird you out at all? I mean, to do this, or keep doing this, even though… well…” Clay let out a frustrated sigh and turned onto his back. “Fuck. I—I don’t know what I’m saying. Or what I’m even trying to say.”

Justin grasped Clay’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it, I think. Yeah, your parents are gonna adopt me, sure, and if that goes through fully, yeah, I’ll legally be your brother, I guess. But that doesn’t make us truly related by blood or anything, like we grew up in the same house or whatever.”

Clay looked at him. _“If_ it goes through?”

Justin shrugged. “Well, I dunno. With how hard it was to get me out in the first place… I mean, no, yeah, I believe your folks are gonna make it happen. I just don’t know how easy it’s gonna be.”

“So, my mom actually filed to become foster parents the day after you were arrested. She also filed for the court to begin adoption proceedings for you at the same time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently, it was all required for the emergency custody bid, so, trust me, they’re in it for the long haul.”

“But they only told you earlier this week?”

Clay nodded. “I think my mom was hedging her legal bets. And they probably were really banking on me being okay with it. Which I am—completely. This is your home now, Justin—we’re gonna make this official. And that’s why I don’t—I don’t want to risk that.”

Justin felt a familiar swell of emotions spreading throughout his core. “I don’t wanna risk that either. But—it, it doesn’t change how I feel.”

Clay seemed to swallow. “It doesn’t?”

“No, it doesn’t. Would your folks really not be cool with us?”

Clay sighed and looked towards the ceiling. “See, _that_ I don’t know about. If this were any other situation—if you weren’t living here, or if they weren’t adopting you… See, I don’t know! I mean, I have no doubt they’d be fine with us outside of those factors, but to have them in the mix… Honestly, I don’t know.”

Justin reached for the boy’s chin and prompted Clay to look back at him. “Well, what do _you_ want?”

For a moment, Clay gazed at him. Gears were definitely churning inside that Jensen brain of his. “Honestly, this is still so new to me. I—in the time you were gone, I really thought I was getting ready. But this whole adoption thing really took me by surprise. Kind of like it reset everything, how I thought everything was gonna go. I think—I think I just need some time, that’s all. Just a little more time.”

Justin couldn’t deny it. It hurt a little. But with how earnest Clay looked, and how he seemed to pull those eyes out of _nowhere_ , Justin couldn’t be mad at him. Jensen was being real with him, and honestly, Justin probably could use some time to sort his head out completely, too.

Feigning a pout, Justin curled into Clay’s shoulder and whined, “Okay,” elongating the word in cutesy annoyance, which made Clay laugh. “I guess I can try and act normal around you for now.”

“Well, what exactly _is_ normal? For us?”

“Like I don’t wanna get into your pants. Or make out with you. Or get naked with you, and do all the things—”

Clay playfully shoved Justin aside. “Okay, okay, I think I got it.” He grinned at Justin.

Justin eyed Clay’s crotch. “I don’t think someone got the memo,” he said, grinning back. Clay started to turn red.

“Maybe we should get ready for the day,” the boy said quickly.

“You wanna shower first?”

Clay shook his head. “No, I think we should keep up appearances. You’re the early bird, remember?”

“Okay, okay,” Justin said. He stretched and groaned before flipping the covers off him and swinging his legs off the bed. He sat for a moment and looked back at Clay with a smirk. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

Still red, Clay burst out laughing and turned to bury his face in the pillow.

~             ~             ~

By the time Justin and Clay got downstairs, Mr. Jensen met them with an offer of brunch out. Lainie had to stop in at the firm for the day, so Clay’s dad said he wanted to take them out for a bit of shopping to get ready for the dance.

“It’s not a formal dance, Dad,” Clay said. “What shopping would we really need to do?”

“I dunno,” Justin cut in, “I could probably use a new tie.” He grinned as Clay eyed him skeptically.

“Well,” Mr. Jensen said, “it’s really more so that we can get Justin better acclimated here.” He looked at Clay. “I’m sure you’re tired of having to share everything with Justin!”

Clay shrugged. “Okay, yeah, I guess.” Justin tried not to laugh.

They ate at Rosie’s for brunch before heading into the city and stopping at the Walplex. After entering the giant store, Clay’s dad commented on how not-busy it was in there for a Saturday.

“I thought we were boycotting this place,” Clay remarked.

“Not really,” Mr. Jensen said, “not anymore.”

“Guess we can’t fight the inevitable,” Clay said.

When Clay wandered off into the store, Mr. Jensen grabbed a shopping basket for himself, then handed another to Justin.

“Feel free to grab what you need,” he said.

“Oh, okay.”

When Clay’s dad walked off, Justin stood for a moment near the entrance, trying to take everything in. He’d only been here once all those months before, and he had barely paid attention to anything then. Now that he was here for himself, he had no idea where to begin. It was kind of a new thing for him, shopping for himself. With such a huge assortment of choice before him. It was a big store.

After the embarrassment sunk in, Justin cursed at himself to get moving. He made for the direction that Clay’s dad had gone in, discovering the personal care aisle along the way. Justin wandered down it, scanning the tall shelves for things he might need, but failed to spot anything that Clay didn’t already have. They didn’t really need two of everything, did they? Justin already had his own toothbrush, and he kind of liked Clay’s choice in shaving cream, soap, aftershave, lotion, and the like. He settled on a different kind of aftershave—just to get something—before wandering into the next aisle.

Justin almost felt like a mouse in a maze, unsure of where to go, and not finding anything else he really needed, or the cheese he was supposed to get. The Walplex offered a stunning array of choice in not just toiletries and groceries, but in random electronics, home stuff, and more. Like a gas station on steroids.

He found Clay near the furniture section. He wasn’t surprised Clay hadn’t gotten anything yet, as the boy had never grabbed a basket.

“This place is kind of crazy,” Justin said.

“Yeah, I know.” Clay regarded Justin’s basket. “Is that all you’re getting?”

Justin shrugged. “I—I don’t really need much.”

They found Mr. Jensen back at groceries. When he saw Justin’s basket, he asked, just as Clay had, “Sure you don’t need anything else?”

Justin had only gotten aftershave and a razor for himself, along with floss and body wash. Mainly because Clay was low.

“I’m sure.”

As they made for checkout, Justin hung back with Clay as Mr. Jensen walked ahead.

“This isn’t a test, you know,” Clay said.

Justin felt himself flush. “I know,” he said meekly. “I, I told you, I don’t need much.”

Along the way, Clay grabbed off a clearance section a toy figurine of what looked to be Pinocchio and dropped it into Justin’s basket.

“There,” Clay said, “now you’re a real boy!” Justin laughed.

After checking out and walking back out into the parking lot, Clay’s dad told them they were headed to the mall next. He hadn’t gotten anything perishable, and Justin really hoped he hadn’t made that choice solely because of him, because they weren’t about to go home right away. Because Justin had mentioned getting a new tie.

As they were driving, Clay suddenly called out from the back seat, “Wait, stop! I think that’s it, Caleb’s gym.”

“Who?” Mr. Jensen asked, pulling over.

“Tony’s boyfriend,” Clay answered. When Justin shot him a confused look, Clay went on, “I talked to Tony after the wake yesterday and he mentioned that he specifically _wasn’t_ going to ask Caleb to the dance. So I’m putting my extra guest pass to good use.”

Justin chuckled. “Look at you, Mr. Matchmaker.”

“Well, they’re already together. I’m just trying to help make sure they stay that way.”

When Clay stepped out of the car and trotted inside the gym, Mr. Jensen said, “That worked out nicely. One less stop for him to make later.”

“Yeah,” Justin said.

After a moment, Mr. Jensen said, “We should look at getting a bed up in the attic for you. Can’t imagine the couch being too comfortable for you in the long run. Or, we can shift the study back to what it originally was, the guest bedroom.”

Justin shook his head, hoping that the heat rising in his face wasn’t showing too badly. “I’m—I’ve been fine on the couch, really. You don’t have to do all this for me.”

“Clay’s okay with the space becoming the both of yours, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glanced at Mr. Jensen before turning his gaze out of the window. “It’s still kind of early, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. Not too early to start brainstorming, at least.”

Justin couldn’t help thinking back to the fights Clay’s parents had had because of him, listening to them argue from down the hallway in Clay’s room, or while on the stairwell. Justin still couldn’t let go of that feeling of being a burden, of not wanting to impose any further on the Jensens. Like other things, it was a hard habit to kick.

Clay returned to the car in a visibly triumphant mood. “Mission accomplished?” his dad asked.

“Yup,” Clay said. Justin grinned at him.

They resumed their course for the mall and this time, after parking and making their way inside, Mr. Jensen handed Clay a credit card. “Make sure he gets a few nice somethings!”

Justin followed Clay towards the main atrium of the mall. Or perhaps, Clay was following him. They walked past a few shops without actually entering any.

“Where are we going?” Justin asked.

“I dunno. Where are _you_ going? I don’t typically shop here.”

Justin laughed. “And you think _I_ do?”

“Well, my dad did say to get a few nice things. So let’s do that—but nothing crazy. Not a suit! That would be overkill.”

Shaking his head and laughing, still, Justin made for a modern-looking boutique that didn’t seem completely pretentious. Men’s and women’s clothing were both displayed prominently near the front of the store, and as Justin and Clay wandered through the men’s section, it became clear that there was enough there for Justin to build a basic wardrobe of his own if he wanted. If he wanted to spend several hundred dollars.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Justin said, letting go of the price tag of a $150 sweater. Probably made with the virgin sacrifice of two baby sheep.

“Okay,” Clay said, “maybe you don’t need eighty-dollar underwear, but there are still a few good things in here.” He pulled a teal button-down off one of the middle racks of shirts.

“That’s a little bright,” Justin said.

Clay nodded. “Okay, darker, then.” He put the shirt back and pulled off another button-down, this one a darker navy. “How about this?”

“Don’t you have one like that already?”

“Yeah, but this one would actually fit you.”

“But all your stuff fits me.”

“Justin! This one would actually be _yours._ I’m trying to spend money on you, here!”

“Uh oh, no trouble in paradise, is there?” One of the sales people appeared from behind Clay, a big grin between her big dangling hoop earrings. “Anything I can help you boys find?”

Justin suppressed a laugh as he shrugged his shoulders. “He’s just trying to dress me.”

“I’m not trying to dress you!” Clay exclaimed. “I’m just presenting some ideas.”

The clerk seemed to gush at them. “You two are so adorable. Is there a special occasion on the horizon?”

Finally, Clay seemed to get it, and he gave the clerk a confused look. “We’re—we’re not—”

“There’s a dance tonight,” Justin cut in. “He’s just nervous.”

The clerk put a hand across her chest as the look of utter betrayal on Clay’s face behind her made Justin want to burst out laughing. It was too perfect.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” the clerk said, prompting Justin to follow her. “You share clothes, but that don’t mean you gotta dress the same. Come here, I think we might have a few things you might like.”

Justin looked back to see Clay practically fuming, his face red. _So_ red. Justin couldn’t help grinning back at Clay, who wasn’t nearly as amused.

The clerk picked out a few shirts and bottoms for Justin to try on, suggesting he mix and match them in the dressing room. Figuring he couldn’t go wrong, he went through the motions for her and Clay, who seemed resigned to play along and was grudgingly approving of Justin’s fashion choices by the fourth time he stepped out of the dressing room. By the end of it, Justin decided upon two outfits, not wanting to break the two-hundred-dollar barrier.

After making for checkout, Clay handed the clerk Mr. Jensen’s credit card and paid for the new clothes for Justin. “Don’t be offended he went for something new,” she said to Clay, winking at him before putting the new clothes into two paper totes. “You both have a great sense of style.”

Clay raised his eyebrows and gave her a wide, flat smile as he grabbed the bags. “Thanks,” he said, before turning to Justin and handing him the totes. “I’m not carrying your stuff.”

As they walked out of the store, Justin couldn’t stop grinning. For a number of reasons. “Come on, Clay. Lighten up!” Justin said as they walked back into the mall. It had gotten a lot busier since they’d entered the boutique.

“Oh, yeah, you thought that was real funny, didn’t you?”

“A little, yeah!”

“Of course you did.”

“Dude, she never actually said anything.”

“Yeah, but she thought it!”

“So what?” Justin said, forcing a laugh. “Who’s she gonna tell?”

“That’s not the point.”

Justin stepped ahead of Clay. “So what is the point, then? Would it really be that bad?”

“I’m not ready!” Clay snapped, his eyes flaring briefly at Justin before shifting towards the floor.

Justin felt his grin finally fall from his face. “Well, I am,” he said, shrugging. “Whenever you are.” He held up the tote bags and said, “Thank you for the clothes,” before turning around and walking ahead.

When Clay said something, Justin turned around, only a few steps ahead. “What?”

Shaking his head, Clay caught up to him. “Nothing. Let’s go find my dad.”

In the noise of the atrium, Justin couldn’t be sure, but he thought maybe Clay had said, “I believe you?”

No, that didn’t make sense. If Clay believed him, what was holding him back? Then, Justin realized, it had to have been the opposite.

Clay didn’t believe him.

As they walked through the mall, Justin tried to observe Clay without making it obvious he was looking at the boy, but it was too late. Clay had already gone back into his shell. They found Mr. Jensen near the food court, and he got them smoothies. Not wanting to push Clay any further, Justin let them make most of the conversation on the way home.

Now, Justin was the confused one. Or maybe they both were. What could he do to convince Clay?

Or maybe, was Justin really sure he himself was ready for this? Jess had been the one to plant the idea of the dance in his head in the first place. Maybe that was why Clay didn’t believe him.

Maybe he had to sort things out with Jessica first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still find the show's relationship to consumer name brands somewhat curious...


	5. The Spring Fling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay go to the dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 45k words later, I'm finally at the start of the moment that birthed this series.

“Now bring that around to the right. No no no no—the big end. The, the big end!”

“That’s what I’m doing!”

“No, that’s _not_ what you’re doing! Oh my God, start over.”

They got home late after hitting an unexpected logjam of traffic out of the city. Mrs. Jensen met them at home with Chinese takeout for an abbreviated dinner before Justin and Clay went up to get ready for the dance. Clay had seemed to be a bundle of nerves the whole ride home and only seemed to get worse as night fell.

Justin scoffed and looked at Clay’s reflection on the mirror. “Will you fucking relax?”

“You—you don’t listen!” Clay gaped back at him in the mirror, clearly exasperated.

“You are _so_ uptight.”

Clay took a deep breath. “I am _not_ uptight! It was your idea that we should wear ties. It’s not even a formal dance. And if you wanna wear a tie, you should follow my instructions.”

Justin tried really hard not to make a face as he looked at Clay through the mirror. “You need to get laid, Jensen.”

Clay sighed and turned around. “Is that an offer?” he spat.

“No,” Justin said quickly, clearing his throat. He hadn’t meant to push Clay again, but sometimes, the boy just made it so easy. “I was just saying. You help me tie a tie, I will help you get laid.”

“I don’t need your help,” Clay said, slipping on his suit jacket.

“I—I know. I was just—again, I was just saying.”

Clay sat in his chair. “So you’d be fine if I just went and—hooked up with some random person at the dance tonight?”

Justin swallowed. “Well, it _is_ called the ‘Spring Fling.’”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Justin sighed. “If it was what you wanted, sure,” he said, his fingers still trying to tame the unruly fabric around his neck. “Whatever you needed to do to—get your head on straight.”

Clay chuckled. “You, you’ve had, like, a lot of sex, haven’t—you?”

Again, Justin tried not to smile. He was pretty sure the tie was almost done. “Yeah, I’ve—I’ve had a good amount.”

“Does it help? With, with getting your head—straight?”

“Sometimes,” Justin replied, sliding the knot between his shirt collar. Finally. He turned to Clay, and forced himself to smile as he held his hands out in a gesture of ta-da.

Clay smiled back at him, nodding in approval as he mimicked Justin and patted his thighs. Ta-da indeed. They went downstairs and found Mr. and Mrs. Jensen on the couch.

“Oh!” Mrs. Jensen called out to them as they made for the front door. “Wait, I need pictures!”

“Mom,” Clay whined. Justin burst out laughing. “This isn’t a date, you know!” the boy exclaimed.

“I know,” Mrs. Jensen said, holding up her phone, “but you two look so handsome, anyway. Come on!”

Justin put his arm around Clay’s shoulder and smiled as Clay rolled his eyes before plastering a smile on his face as well. Mrs. Jensen took a few photos of them before hugging them and sending them out the door.

As they made for Clay’s Prius, Justin said, “Your mom’s really something, you know?”

“Tell me about it.”

They were mostly quiet on the short drive to school. Justin wasn’t sure if he could really say anything without pushing any of the boy’s buttons at the moment, so he opted for silence, which Clay seemed to be okay with. As Clay drove onto the school parking lot, Justin finally began to think that perhaps the dance wasn’t such a good idea after all, but after pulling up beside Tony’s Mustang, Justin knew they’d come too far to back out now.

The school was packed with people in all manner of fancy dress, and cars were parked in all sorts of irregular places. Justin saw a lot of people he didn’t recognize, and wondered how many people brought dates from elsewhere. The night air was crisp, but not cold, and the moon was out in full bloom. Tony greeted Clay and Justin as they stepped out of the car and started making their way towards the school.

A large, bright red banner proclaiming _Spring Fling 2018_ hung over the gym entrance, which was embellished in delicate drapery and lights just like the bushes next to the gym steps and along the sidewalk. Spotlights illuminated the school walls, including the Tiger’s Den logo right next to the entrance door. No doubt about it—it was a fully decked-out party. Taking it all in, Justin could almost forget about everything that had happened in the past month, and maybe even more.

“This is the first dance I haven’t DJ’ed in two years,” Tony remarked.

“So now you get to dance,” Clay offered.

“Dude, people become DJs so they don’t have to dance,” Tony went on.

“I thought it was because you had great taste in music,” Clay said.

“That’s just my gift to the world.”

The three of them made their way inside and presented their tickets. “Sure you’re not gonna have any choice words with the DJ?” Justin asked Tony.

“I make no promises,” Tony said.

As they followed the other kids inside and approached the gymnasium, a figure stood by the entrance, clearly waiting for someone. He smiled as he made eye contact with Tony.

“Good evening,” the man said.

Tony let out a brief laugh. “Good evening,” he said, turning to Clay. “Did you do this?”

“I got him a guest pass. Apparently, you forgot to!”

Tony patted Clay on the arm before walking up to the man, who had to be Caleb. Justin remembered him now, from Hannah’s wake, and couldn’t help smiling.

“So that’s Caleb?” Justin asked Clay.

“That’s Caleb.”

“Damn.” They laughed. “I guess you really know what you’re doing, huh?” Justin went on.

Clay shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Justin looked behind them, thinking he heard a familiar voice. As he watched a couple step into view, presenting their tickets at check-in, Justin felt an unexpected twinge of guilt clamp down on his stomach as Jess and Alex walked up to them.

“Hey,” Alex said, greeting them as Clay turned around.

“Hey,” Justin repeated, trying to divert his gaze from Jess. Alex had done his hair up in a way he hadn’t in a really long time. They’d talked about it that one time, and though Justin had noticed his haircut at the wake, the scars were nowhere near as noticeable as Alex had made them out to be, now that they were up close. “You guys look good,” Justin said after an awkward moment.

“Thanks, yeah,” Alex said, “I bedazzled the cane, so…” Justin and Clay glanced at each other. The cane didn’t look bedazzled. “I didn’t, really,” Alex continued.

“Well,” Clay interjected, “if we have to do this, let’s do it.” He turned towards Justin and raised his eyebrows, as if to ask him, _Are you okay?_

“Okay,” Justin said, forcing a grin in response to Clay’s silent question, before turning towards the gym.

“All right,” Alex said.

“You ready?” Jess asked.

“Yup.”

“All right.”

Justin heard Jess laugh behind them. As they entered the transformed gymnasium, the dance was absolutely packed. The student council board had done a bang-up job hiding the fact that the dance was, in fact, inside a gym. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling with streams of shiny beads surrounding it, and a huge array of fancy lights moved and twisted along with the dancers below. Beads and lights were pretty much everywhere, along with matching temporary art installations and flashing lamps, and barely an inch of wooden tile or cinderblock was left exposed—save for the Tiger’s seal in the center of the floor—to remind anyone they were at school. Nope, they were at a dance. And it was going to be a night they would all remember.

After Jess and Alex wandered off onto the dance floor, Justin spotted Zach and a few familiar faces in a lounge area near the back. Justin cut a way around the outside of the dance floor towards Zach, glancing behind him to see Clay somewhat following him, and held out a hand to greet Zach as he got up off the chair.

“What’s up, man?” Zach said as they grasped hands and dabbed shoulders. “Lookin’ sharp!”

“Thanks!” said Justin.

“You finally got the hang of ties?” Zach grinned.

Justin grinned back at him before glancing at Clay as he came up to Justin. “Yeah, I finally had a good teacher!”

Clay smirked at Justin before greeting Zach with a hand wave.

“So you decided to come tonight, too?” Justin asked Zach.

“Yeah! I figured, why not?”

“Any hot date?” Justin went on.

His friend shook his head. “Nah, man. I am stag tonight. You?”

Justin couldn’t help glancing at Clay, who met his eyes but quickly looked away. “Same,” Justin said, looking back at Zach.

“I’m just here to keep him out of trouble!” Clay chimed in. Justin and Zach laughed.

“And dressed to impress!” Zach said.

Clay went over to Cyrus and his friends nearby as Zach and Justin made their way back to the lounge chairs. For a short while, they watched the people on the dance floor.

“How was it?” Zach eventually asked. “In juvie, I mean.”

Justin looked back at Zach and shrugged. “It wasn’t horrible. Boring, really. It was pretty much like detention, but all the time.”

“Clay mentioned how his mom finally got you out. You staying with them, now?”

“Yeah,” Justin said.

“How does that work? He’d mentioned a little about how tough it was to spring you. Are they just letting you stay there?”

Justin gave a brief laugh. “Kind of. His parents are adopting me.”

Zach grinned. “No shit! Really?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, laughing. “Insane, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Zach said. “Clay’s a good guy. Only makes sense his parents are good people, too.”

Justin nodded. “Yeah,” he said, looking back out onto the dance floor. After another moment of people watching, he went on, “I miss anything major while I was gone?”

“Nah, not really. Did—did you hear about Bryce, though?”

Justin looked back at Zach. “No, what?”

“He’s transferring. To Hillcrest.”

“That uptight private school?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re not gonna let him play, though, are they?”

Zach shook his head. “Yeah—apparently, they are. But he’s gonna be coming in as a junior. They’re letting him play football in the fall.”

Justin looked back at the dance floor. “Well, fuck.”

“Sorry, man.” Zach patted his shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Justin said, sighing. “Nothing that happens to him surprises me anymore.” He glanced back at Zach. “Fucking crazy—how some things have turned out, huh?”

Zach nodded. “You got that right, dude.”

Gazing back out onto the dance floor, Justin went on, “How did Hannah’s service, um, go? Were there as many people there as at the wake?”

“I think so. More, maybe. She brought together a lot of people. She clearly touched more than she knew. Before and—and after.”

“Yeah, she did,” Justin agreed. “If only she could’ve seen it.” After a moment, he went on, “You know, I never thought the girl you were talking about last summer was Hannah.” He looked at Zach. “You remember?”

“I remember,” Zach said, nodding.

Justin looked back at the dance floor. “You would’ve been really good for Hannah. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you know, if I didn’t fuck it up like I fuck up everything else.”

A bitter laugh escaped Justin. “Dude, you do _not_ want to be having that contest with me.” He tried to swallow the hallow feeling swelling inside of him. “I’m really sorry you couldn’t talk to me.”

The song had changed. It was a lot more upbeat than the previous one had been. Justin looked over to see Cyrus and his crew making their way onto the dance floor. And—to Justin’s surprise—Clay standing up to follow them.

He paused in front of Justin and Zach. “Hey, come on!” Clay called to them. Justin was skeptical. Clay Jensen, getting up to dance—willingly? “If Jeff Atkins were here,” the boy went on, “he’d say, ‘Get your asses up and come on!’” Clay picked a cushion off the floor and flung it at them. “Guys,” he called, “come on! Come on!”

Justin couldn’t help grinning and made a mental note to figure out what the song was called later. He looked over at Zach, who seemed to indicate with a shrug, “Why not?” before standing up. Justin followed Zach’s lead and Clay grinned at them as they made their way onto the dance floor. Justin couldn’t help thinking to himself how crazy things had turned out, indeed, for Clay fucking Jensen to be the one to finally get them to dance.

The boy was full of surprises.

Stepping into the crowd was like jumping into a hive and Justin started to mosh with the others straight away. He couldn’t help it. It felt crazy—crazy good—to just let loose. Like everything was all right. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. As he noticed Clay really get into it, too—so much that his shirt came untucked—Justin started to believe it. To jump up and down like crazy idiots, fuck yeah! He could believe it.

Until he spotted Alex and Jessica across the dance floor. Kissing. And he felt himself deflate. She was smiling at Alex in a way she had used to smile at him—once upon a time.

She was happy. Without him. Truly.

Jess made eye contact with Justin and he tried to smile back at her, but she turned her attention back to Alex. Zach collided with Justin, breaking him out of his daze. Bringing him back into the moment.

Yeah, it hurt. But it was bittersweet, really. Jess had moved on. He should, too.

When the song finished, Justin broke away from the group and made for the drink counter. He asked for water and started to drink it quickly, dabbing his forehead with a napkin as well. All that moshing had made him sweat. A lot.

Justin turned and was startled to see Bryce approaching the counter beside him. “You want a real drink?” he said, flashing the flask in his hand before him.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Justin said. He kept his attention towards the dance floor. He didn’t want to look at Bryce, let alone talk to him.

Bryce offered the flask again as a toast before they drank. He could see out of the corner of his eye Bryce lean against the counter towards him. “Brings back memories, huh?”

“I heard you were transferring,” Justin spat.

“Yeah,” Bryce said. “Yeah. I’m gonna start over.”

Justin tried to force down the bitter taste in his mouth. “Lucky you.”

After a moment, Bryce said, “I’m gonna miss this. All of it.” He took another sip out of his flask. “You remember freshman year?” he went on. “The night before our first day, you stayed over. And we stayed up talking about how we were gonna be kings of this _fucking_ school.”

It suddenly seemed hard to keep anything down. “I remember,” Justin said. “I’ll always remember.”

“Me too, brother.”

Brother. _Brother_.

“Justin!” Speaking of brother, Clay appeared in front of them, clearly fuming at Bryce. He looked towards Justin. “You okay?”

“He’s fine,” Bryce said. “I can’t touch him. Or you, or I go to jail.”

“Funny. I don’t have that problem,” Clay said.

Bryce chuckled as Justin set his water down on the counter. He’d gone through it faster than he realized. “You’re a good kid, Clay,” Bryce said, taking the boy by the shoulder. “You need to get laid, but you’re a good kid.” Bryce gave Justin a look before stepping away.

Justin didn’t want to admit it, but he was shaken. One fucking encounter and a few words. Was that all it took for that asshole _brother_ to reduce him back to that fucking nothing coward who had simply—moved aside?

Clay stood beside him. Justin gazed at Clay, taking in his profile as the boy watched Bryce walk away. Clay was fucking beautiful. Did he know that? Jensen softened his expression as he looked back at Justin. “You all right?”

Justin really wanted to fucking kiss him right then and there. He could have. Maybe he should have. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I just…” He leaned towards Clay and patted him on the shoulder. Clay very pointedly looked down and away as Justin went on, “I’m gonna go use the bathroom for a quick minute, okay? I’ll—I’ll be right back.”

_Don’t worry,_ _Jensen,_ Justin thought to himself as he walked away, _I wasn’t going to kiss you._ Nobody wanted him. Why had he ever expected anything different?

Fuck heroin. Hope—now _that_ was one truly dangerous drug.

~             ~             ~

Justin made his way across the dance floor and stepped out of the gym. Once in the hallway, the music faded quickly behind him as he continued his trek down the hall towards the bathrooms, but once there, he only went past them, not really sure where he was going. The hall ended at the boy’s locker room, and because he didn’t have it in him to turn back, Justin pressed on, and sat at one of the benches inside.

He wasn’t sure how he’d expected the night to go, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t like this. At least in the dark, and in the silence—without a song hammering the word _love_ into his ears—Justin figured he might be able to get a grip.

Love. _Love_. Who did he love? And with what kind of love? He loved Jess. He loved Clay. Did it matter, anyway, if he couldn’t be with either of them?

It had caught him off guard to see Jess and Alex kiss. He hadn’t expected his reaction to be so—visceral. All the signs were there and he’d had plenty of time to brace for it, and still, it knocked him down, like being stuck in a path of giant tumbling dominoes.

And then Bryce. Fucking Bryce. He knew Justin better than anyone—probably better than Justin himself. And that asshole knew just what to say to get under his skin. That manipulative asshole. He might not have been able to touch him, but he’d punched Justin right in the gut nonetheless.

He remembered that night all too well, like it had been fucking yesterday, as cliché as it sounded. He fucking looked up to Bryce. He really thought their friendship was real. The way Bryce could just continue acting like it _had_ been—it poked at that fucking entanglement of shit that Justin had let snowball over the past months. He couldn’t just put it all on Bryce. _Justin_ had fallen for it, too. _He_ had gone along with it, all that time. All in the twisted name of loyalty. Of being _brothers_. The fact that Justin barely had anything else was just an excuse. He had a mind of his own. He should have started using it a long time ago.

Because if he had, Hannah might still be around.

Who the fuck was Justin kidding? Clay might have said he’d forgiven him, but how could Justin possibly expect the boy to love him back? There was no way—just like he and Jess couldn’t go back—not when Justin helped bring about Hannah’s death. The death of Clay’s first love.

Bryce knew Justin better than anyone. The way he’d looked at Justin, right before he walked off—when he’d said Clay needed to get laid—did Bryce know? Had he guessed, somehow?

Justin let out a long sigh. Clay knew better. If his head was all over the place, Justin’s was, too. Justin wasn’t sure how he was ever going to sort things out with Jessica, but as he tried to get past his initial gut reaction to her kiss with Alex, he realized he also felt a little bit of relief—deep down. Justin was grateful that she could smile like that again, that she could be happy again with someone else. That his betrayal and his failings hadn’t completely ruined her for life.

Fuck, he knew she was stronger than that. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Justin could accept that. He could accept Jess being with and finding happiness with someone else. She fucking deserved it. And she deserved better than Justin.

So then, it only made sense—if Justin loved Clay, he’d want better for the boy, too. Jensen fucking deserved it.

“What are you doing alone in the dark?”

Justin looked up to see Clay at the entrance to the locker room. “Get lost on your way to the bathroom?” Jensen went on, taking a step towards him.

“I’m not alone anymore, am I?” Justin uttered.

Clay indicated the mats on the floor, taking a few more steps towards him. “What’s with these mats?”

“They’re for the wrestling team. They must have had a meet yesterday.”

“Wait, we have a wrestling team?”

Justin smiled. “Yeah, we—we have a wrestling team.”

Clay put his hands in his pockets. “You know, I tried out for the wrestling team in middle school. Well, _almost_ tried out. I got so far as to nearly writing my name on the signup page, but I chickened out when I saw the names of the guys already on it.”

“You should have,” Justin said, looking up at Clay. “You’d have been a badass in your weight class.”

Clay drew in a breath, clicking his tongue. “Yeah, I’m—not so sure about that. Don’t think there were enough guys in the sub-a-hundred weight class.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped you. You’d have kicked ass, Clay. I would’ve bet money on it.”

Clay shrugged. “Too bad we didn’t know each other then. You could’ve been my personal cheerleader.”

Justin managed a laugh. For a moment, Clay merely stood before him, and Justin let his hands fall into his lap. When neither of them said anything, Justin looked back up at the boy and said, “You’re beautiful.”

Clay seemed to be taken aback.

“Sorry,” Justin said.

Jensen laughed gently. “For saying I’m beautiful?”

“Yes,” Justin replied, glancing back down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to push. Again.”

Clay gingerly took a few steps towards the bench and sat beside Justin. “About that.” Justin met his gaze. “I think,” Clay went on, “I think I—might actually still—want you to push.”

Justin felt his breath hitch. “Do you?”

Clay swallowed. “I—I know I, I haven’t… I know I’ve been doing a shitty job with this, but I realized something earlier and—I think I want you to keep pushing. Again. Just a little more.”

Justin glanced at Clay’s lips before meeting his eyes again.

“Please?” Clay whispered.

“Is it—does it always have to be me? The one to push?”

Clay gazed back at him. “Good question,” he uttered. “Maybe—maybe not?” The boy leaned towards Justin and they met halfway as their lips touched—and they began to kiss.

It was utterly surreal. After such a whirlwind night so far, Justin hadn’t expected it to still feel so—right. He felt Clay’s hands reach behind his neck to draw him closer, and Justin would have done the same had it not been for the sudden metallic clash.

They spun apart to see Jess at the entrance of the locker room, stumbling against one of the lockers with an embarrassed grin on her face. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Clay had drawn back from Justin, and when the boy looked back at him, Jensen shot up off the bench. “It’s—it’s okay! You two need to talk!” He turned to Justin briefly. “You should talk,” he repeated, clearing his throat. Before Justin could say anything, Clay had shot past Jess and disappeared from the locker room.

Justin was hurt, but he wasn’t surprised. Two steps forward, four steps back. Jess had had a perplexed look on her face as she had watched Clay leave before turning her attention towards Justin.

“I—think you should go after him,” she said.

Justin sighed. “No. He—he’s still figuring shit out. I’d just make it worse for him.”

Jess stepped towards him. “Somehow, I highly doubt that. From what I saw, it _looked_ like you had things pretty figured out.” She started to grin at Justin.

He managed a small smile back. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

“Don’t be. It’s my fault, really, for not being able to make a smooth exit in these heels.”

Justin managed a chuckle. “I guess it was a really big shock, huh?”

Jess took a few more steps towards him. “Yeah, it—it kind of was, I’m not gonna lie.” She laughed. “So does this mean you’re—bi?”

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m not really sure what I am. That goes for in general, really. Not just this.”

Jess sat on the bench beside him. “Are you attracted to guys, too? Or is it, is it just Clay?”

Justin shrugged. “I think it’s just the person, honestly. But yeah, I guess Clay _is_ my first—guy.”

“I think there’s a word for that,” Jess offered. “Pan, maybe? We should ask Ryan.”

Justin forced a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think we’d really need him to spread it all over the school. Not just yet, anyway.”

Jess smiled at him. She was looking at him, as if she were seeing him for the first time. “How long has this been going on? You and Clay, I mean.”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Since right before I was arrested, if I had to say when.”

Jess began to nod slowly. “That—would make total sense. It makes total sense now, why he visited you every week. I thought it was because he felt guilty, but now—I get it.”

“He told you about that?”

“Well, he didn’t _say_ it, outright, but he’d always try to fill me in on how you were doing whenever we had talked.”

Justin couldn’t help smiling at the thought. “How long have you and Alex been a—thing, again?”

Jess smiled back at him. “I suppose I could use your answer, too. I don’t really know. I mean, I guess I could say since he asked me to the dance yesterday, but—we’ve been kind of having a thing for a lot longer than that.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Jess met his gaze. “Yeah, he does.” After a moment, she asked, “How do you feel about Clay?”

Justin took a deep breath, and let out a long exhale. “I think I’m in love with him,” he said, and he surprised himself—at how easy it was to say.

Jess grinned at him. “Does _he_ know that?”

“I—I think he does. I think that’s the other part that’s freaking him out.”

“What, because you’re, like, living with him for real now, too?”

“Maybe. His parents are adopting me. Which, why anyone would wanna do that, I don’t know. But that’s the other part of it.”

“I do,” Jess said gently. “And, come on, so what if they’re adopting you? It’s not like there’s any actual blood relation between you.”

Justin shrugged, and turned his gaze towards the floor. “I think it’s also a timing thing, too. From Hannah’s funeral. It’s—it’s probably just more than he can take on right now.”

“Or—it could be exactly what he needs.”

Justin looked up at Jess. They’d been talking around the one thing Justin was afraid to talk about. But, if he was ever gonna prove himself to Clay, he’d have to face it. Head on.

“Do you ever think about it?” he asked. “Doing what Hannah did?”

“No,” Jess replied firmly, “I don’t. With everything that happened, I—I never thought that was a way to go.”

Justin swallowed. “I’ve had some shitty days,” he uttered. “But—I always wanted to live. I wanted to be alive.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Do you,” Justin began, but he felt his voice begin to break. He cleared his throat. “Do you think—you could ever forgive me?”

Jess gazed at him, and that look appeared again on her face, like she was seeing him in a whole new light. “I think I already have,” she breathed, taking his hand. “I’m sorry—for all the cruel things I said to you. You made mistakes. I made mistakes. We both made mistakes.

“Clay told me what you said in court that day, when you testified in the school trial, how you’d regret this forever. Please don’t let this eat away at you. I mean, for months, I couldn’t possibly imagine ever going to another dance, or doing anything normal again, ever. But here I am.

“You’ve been through hell, too, and I know you’re trying to make things right. Honestly—you’ve helped me come back. You’ve shown me, we _both_ could come back from this. So, I hope that, some day, you’ll be able to forgive yourself—even if the regret never truly goes away. Because this one thing—doesn’t have to define us forever. It shouldn’t. So don’t let it.”

Justin had felt his eyes begin to well as Jess spoke. When she reached across and embraced him, a gesture that completely surprised Justin, he managed to twist the sob that escaped him mostly into a laugh as he embraced her back.

As they held each other for a moment, Justin whispered, “Thank you.” Even though Jess was holding him down, he felt like he was floating away. It was a high that no drug could ever deliver. When they parted, Justin went on, “I’m glad you’re here, Jess. You deserve to be happy—more than anything.”

“And you deserve to be happy, too,” she said, and gestured towards the entrance with a grin. “So go find Clay before he gets the wrong idea and tell him how you really feel! Don’t let him overthink his way out of a real chance at happiness like he did with Hannah.”

Justin burst out laughing. “Okay, okay,” he exclaimed, standing, “but I will not tell him you said that.”

Jess laughed as she stood with him. “Please don’t. I know it’s horrible, but it’s the truth!”

They left the locker room together. After Jess said she was going to stop by the bathroom and to go on ahead of her, Justin started making his way back towards the gym. He felt a true spring in his step, like a huge weight had finally been lifted off of him, and he couldn’t have imagined how such clarity and such newfound purpose could turn the entire night around.

Jess had surprised him yet again. With everything. With Clay. With himself. She’d given him an immense gift when she had every right _not_ to be so kind, so there was no way in hell Justin was gonna squander this.

He’d make Clay happy, and he’ll do anything and everything to prove it. Tonight, he would make it happen. No matter what.


	6. What do we do now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Spring Fling comes to an abrupt end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally venturing off into the great unknown beyond season 2... The end of this episode was another major moment that made me want to explore everything from Justin's perspective.

Justin found everyone in a circle when he returned to the dance. “What’s going on, guys?” he asked.

“Have you seen Jess?” Alex demanded.

Justin was a little surprised by his tone. “I, I think she said she was going to the bathroom,” Justin said. He caught Clay’s gaze on him, and the boy seemed panicked.

Justin would have said more, but Clay cut him off. “Justin,” Jensen said, stepping towards him, “find Jessica. Get everyone you can. Lock the doors. Stay inside. And don’t call the police!” He handed Justin a phone. “I gotta find Tony!” He grasped Justin’s shoulder before stepping quickly past him.

“What the fuck?” Justin called after him. “Clay!” He turned back towards the group when the boy only kept running. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Tyler sent Cyrus’ sister a text,” Zach said, indicating the phone Clay had just given him, “a warning. Read it.”

Justin did as he was told. On the phone was a single message in a recently cleared thread and Justin felt chills sweep across his skin as he absorbed the insanity on the screen before him.

_Mack, I’m going to make them all pay. I’m coming to show them what real consequences look like. If you’re at the dance, leave now. Please. I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire._

“Jesus Christ,” Justin exclaimed, “ _crossfire?_ Does this mean what I think it means?”

When Zach said nothing, he glanced at the girl beside him, then at Cyrus.

“That Tyler’s coming to shoot up the fucking dance?” Cyrus finally responded. He glanced at the girl, who must have been Mack.

Mack looked back at her brother, then gave Justin a grave look. “I would believe it,” she said, nodding solemnly.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Justin spat. “What is the plan, here?” he said, looking around the group.

“It’s not a fucking good one,” Zach said with a sigh.

“Justin,” Alex cut in, “you heard the plan. Find Jess. Please!”

“All right, all right,” Justin said, nodding rapidly, and quickly handed the phone back to Mack before cutting across the dance floor and running out of the gym. Once in the back hallway, he quickly retraced his steps towards the locker rooms just in time to see Jess and Chloe walking out of the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Jess was saying, and she was holding Chloe beside her.

“Jess!” Justin called out to her, who looked at him in surprise.

“Justin?” Jess began.

“We gotta get back to the dance,” Justin said as he came up to them. “Now.”

“Why?” Jess asked.

Justin glanced at Chloe, who was clearly upset. He couldn’t even begin to guess why. “Shit is going down, fast. I’ll explain on the way.”

“I should probably go,” Chloe said, sniffling.

“No!” Justin insisted. “You have to come, too. Now!” He grabbed Jess’s hand, who in turn grabbed Chloe’s, and they started trotting back towards the gym.

“Justin,” Jess said as they approached the gym, “you’re kind of freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“Tyler sent a text, okay? He’s coming—he’s coming to shoot up the dance.”

“What?” Jess and Chloe cried out in unison. As they stepped back inside the gym, Jess cut in front of Justin.

“Please—tell me you’re joking,” she said.

Justin shook his head. “I saw the text myself. It was fucking serious. Insane, but serious.” He turned to Chloe. “Don’t call the police, okay?”

“What? Why not?”

Justin hesitated. “Look, there’s a plan, all right? We don’t wanna start a panic. Get everyone to lock the doors. We need to stay inside.”

Chloe nodded quickly, and had seemed to snap out of whatever had been upsetting her before running off. Justin led Jess back to Alex, Zach, and the others.

“Okay,” Justin said, “now what?”

“It’s not what Hannah would have wanted!” Alex was saying.

“She’s dead!” Zach shouted. “She doesn’t get a say anymore.”

Justin quickly surveyed who was there—and who wasn’t. “Guys,” Justin said, trying to cut in, “where’s Clay?”

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Zach went on.

“Well, a lot more people might die if someone doesn’t do _something_ ,” Alex said.

“Where’s Clay?” Justin repeated, louder.

Alex turned to Justin. “He and Tony are gonna try and give Tyler another way out of this.”

“What?” Justin demanded.

“Clay’s gonna try to talk Tyler down,” Zach said.

Justin swallowed, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. The music suddenly seemed to fade away. It clicked. It finally fucking clicked. What Clay was about to do. Justin felt a bitter chill pierce him down to his core, as if he’d slipped through the cracks of an icy lake.

“Fuck no,” Justin uttered, feeling his heart rate skyrocket as he turned away from the group and ran towards the exit. “No, no no no no,” he repeated to himself

“Justin!” he heard Jess call after him, through the blood hammering against his eardrums, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. No, no, no, not like this. Again. Not like this. With people he loved. What happened. Not like this. “Justin!”

He didn’t stop. He pushed, ran, and dodged past everyone in his way—ignoring their pissed-off cries. He shot through the doors—the first set, the second set, the third set—as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him.

“Clay!” Justin screamed, finally through the last set of doors. He was outside. But he was too late. Clay was in front of Tyler, who had an assault rifle in his hands—a fucking assault rifle—and looked completely armed to the teeth with at least one other gun and what must have been a giant backpack of ammo.

Tyler was ready for a bloodbath.

“Hey, go—go back inside!” Clay shouted back at Justin. Jess had stumbled outside behind him.

“Jesus, Clay!” Justin cried out.

Tyler raised his rifle at them.

At Jess.

“Go inside!” Clay screamed.

Justin sprang towards Jess and they ran back through the door. Once it was shut behind them, Justin felt himself begin to tremble. Suddenly lightheaded, he stumbled against the wall. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to act, but seeing the gun pointed at Jess—it was an impossible choice. He had to act. And now, was he going to regret it?

“Hey—hey,” Jess said, grasping his shoulders. He’d begun to hyperventilate. “He’s gonna be okay,” Jess insisted.

Justin could only shake his head. His vision blurred, and he felt tears begin to flow down his cheeks. “I can’t, Jess,” he cried, “not like this… not like this…”

“Hey,” Jess said firmly, trying to meet his gaze, “Clay knows what he’s doing, all right? Tyler isn’t going to hurt Clay. He’s going to be all right.”

“I can’t,” Justin sobbed, “not like this…”

When Justin could only repeat himself and convulse with tears, Jess brought him close and held him tightly. “Have faith in him, Justin,” she said as she embraced him. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“I can’t lose him,” Justin whispered.

“You’re not,” she said.

Justin couldn’t believe this was happening. Everything suddenly had this haze, like it was a dream. Or maybe he was high. No, it had to be a dream. He drew back from Jess, hoping the illusion would break, but when nothing changed, and he still felt himself trembling with absolute terror, he sprang for the door, only to have Jess leap in front of him.

“Justin, don’t!”

“I have to!” he shouted. There was gonna be a gunshot any second.

“Let Clay do this, okay! You’re gonna put him in more danger if you burst back out there again.”

Justin cleared his throat, and rubbed the tears from his eyes. “Fuck, Jess. Why is this happening?”

Jess grasped his arm. “I don’t know.”

“He doesn’t deserve this.”

“No one deserves this.”

“I brought him here,” Justin said, sniffling. “I made him come. If anything happens to him—”

“Hey, this isn’t on you!” Jess interrupted. “He’s gonna be fine.”

There was a screeching of rubber. Tires spinning on concrete. Justin glanced at Jessica before leaping for the door again. He smashed it open and ran outside. Justin spotted Tony’s Mustang speeding away as Clay seemed to be simply looking onward.

“Clay!” Jessica called out as she and Justin sprinted down the steps towards Clay. “Clay!”

“Fuck,” Justin said as he caught up to the boy—with Tyler’s rifle in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Jessica said. Sirens were wailing in the distance. And getting louder.

“No,” Clay said simply. He looked as if he might puke.

“This is fucked up, right?” Justin said.

Clay didn’t answer right away. The gears in his head had to have been spinning in overdrive as he looked down at Tyler’s rifle in his hand. “Yeah,” Jensen finally said.

“What do we do now?” Justin asked.

The sirens wailed away in the distance. Clay had looked perfectly still, and when he closed his eyes for a moment, he seemed to be taking a few deep breaths. Justin felt the terror spike within him as Clay’s grip on the rifle strengthened.

“I—I have to buy Tony more time,” Clay breathed. “I have to give him a fighting chance.” He grasped the strap dangling from the rifle and slung it around his shoulder.

“Clay, no—” Jess began.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Justin said, stepping towards the boy.

“Justin,” Clay uttered, bringing the butt of the stock towards his shoulder, “take Jess inside. Stay there, please.”

“No!” Justin shouted. “Just—no!”

“Clay, what are you thinking?” Jess said.

The sirens in the distance were only getting louder with each passing second. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Jensen?” Justin demanded. When he reached for the gun, Clay merely stepped further out into the street.

“Please, Justin!” Clay cried out. “I have to do this! Tony needs more time.”

“Do _what?_ ” Justin exclaimed. “Get shot by the fucking cops? Put the _fucking_ gun _down!”_

“Clay, this is crazy,” Jess pleaded.

“They need more time,” Clay simply repeated. “I have to buy them enough time to get away.”

Justin could see the first flashing blue lights just on the horizon as the sirens drew closer. He took a quick step towards Clay, only for the boy to take another step back.

Justin held out his hands. “No, you don’t,” he said calmly, “you did your part already.”

Clay shook his head. “He’s not gonna get away.”

“Tony’s a pretty fast driver,” Justin insisted.

“Not if they’re chasing after him!” Clay cried.

“Clay,” Jess cut in, “Justin’s right! The cops are gonna fucking shoot you the moment they see you with that gun in your hands.”

“They’re not gonna shoot me,” Clay said. “I’m having an attack, I’m panicking, but I’m going to do what they say and get them to focus on me while Tony gets Tyler far, far away.”

Jess scoffed as Justin screamed a frustrated sigh. “Clay—you have _way_ too much fucking faith in cops. Jesus Christ!”

When Justin spotted the first cop car speeding towards the school as the sirens became deafening, he jumped in front of Clay and managed to get a hold of the rifle. Jensen inexplicably grabbed onto the gun, too.

“Clay, please,” Justin sobbed, “I am fucking begging you. Drop the _fucking_ gun. We are _out_ of time.”

A tear fell from Clay’s eye as the sirens intensified all around them and as blinding spotlights began circling around the school. “Justin, don’t,” Clay uttered.

“I’m not gonna let them shoot you,” Justin said, blinking the tears from his eyes. He glanced towards Jess. “Get back!” he shouted to her.

_“Hands in the air,”_ a voice bellowed over loudspeaker. _“NOW!”_

Justin let go of the gun and obeyed, raising his hands slowly. He looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see a damn thing, the lights were all too bright. _“Don’t shoot!”_ Justin screamed. _“Don’t shoot!”_

_“Back away from the suspect—slowly,”_ the voice went on. Suspect? They really thought Clay was the fucking _suspect?_

“Don’t shoot!” Justin repeated, taking the smallest possible step away from Clay, who hadn’t moved at all. The boy was frozen.

_“You with the rifle—hands in the air, NOW!”_

“It wasn’t him!” Justin cried out. “Don’t shoot!” He turned back to Clay. “Clay,” he hissed, “for the love of God, please!”

When Clay finally started to raise his hands, the relief Justin felt made him realize what an epiphany must have really been all about. Jensen continued to raise his hands, and Justin kept backing away from him as ordered by the voice barking orders over the loudspeaker. Justin heard footsteps behind him before he was pushed to the ground and had his arms pulled behind his back before something was strapped onto his wrists.

He couldn’t care less, though. All he could focus on were the cops slowly approaching Clay, who was white as a fucking sheet in the harsh glare of all the spotlights. One of the cops pulled the rifle from Clay while three others wrestled him to the ground.

“Don’t hurt him!” Justin shouted. “Please! It wasn’t him!”

“Quiet, son,” a voice above him commanded.

Justin couldn’t bear to keep looking when the cops pinned Clay against the concrete. Wrenching his head away, Justin found himself on the sidewalk beside Jessica, who also had her arms behind her. As the wailing of sirens subsided fully, and as some of the the blinding spotlights were switched off, Justin realized people had begun spilling out of the school. Several officers were trying to hold everyone back, and shouted orders to maintain the perimeter.

“Dad!” It sounded like Alex. “Dad!”

Justin spotted Alex shoving his way through the crowd with the help of his cane. As Justin refocused his eyes on the cop standing above him and Jessica, he realized it was Alex’s dad.

“Dad!” Alex repeated. “What the hell is going on? Why are the cops all over Clay?” He glanced over at Jess and Justin. “Why are they in handcuffs?”

“Alex,” Deputy Standall said, stepping towards his son, “we don’t have control of the scene yet. Please, just stay back.”

“Clay isn’t the one they should be all over,” Alex pressed.

“One of the first responders on site spotted him with the weapon,” the deputy said.

“He must have gotten it away from Tyler,” Alex went on.

“Tyler, Tyler Down?” his father asked.

“Yes!” Justin interjected. Deputy Standall turned towards him. _“He_ was the one coming to shoot up the school! Clay talked him down, and managed to get the rifle away from him.”

“Where is Tyler now?” Standall asked.

“He turned on Tony,” Jessica cut in, glancing at Justin before looking up at Alex’s father. “Tony was there to try to help Clay, but when they heard the sirens, Tyler forced Tony to drive him away.”

“At gunpoint?” the deputy said.

“Yes,” Justin said. “Clay started having a panic attack. He was freaking out. I tried to get the gun away from him, but he was losing his shit.”

“They fled in Tony’s vehicle?” the deputy went on.

Justin glanced at Jess. “Yes,” Jess said.

Deputy Standall sighed. He began to speak into the walkie-talkie on his bicep as he walked towards the other officers surrounding Clay, who’d also been handcuffed and was sitting on the sidewalk.

Alex approached Jess. “Don’t worry,” he said to her, “they’re just plastic cuffs. You’re not really under arrest. They needed to get a handle on everybody. It’s just protocol.”

Jess made a scoffing sound. “Thank god,” she said, “I was not looking forward to getting arrested on my first official date in a long time.”

Alex sighed with her. “Fucking crazy, isn’t it?”

“Fucking crazy,” Justin echoed.

“What the hell was Clay thinking?” Alex said.

“He said he needed to buy Tony more time,” Jess said.

“Was that part of the plan?” Justin demanded.

Alex shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know what the plan was, exactly. All Clay said was that Tony was going to get Tyler away from the cops, and Clay was going to distract the police when they arrived. I didn’t realize that meant he was gonna make himself look like the fucking shooter.”

“They could’ve fucking shot him,” Justin spat.

“No, they wouldn’t have,” Alex insisted. “As long as Clay didn’t make any threatening gestures and did what they said, no one would’ve shot him.”

Justin could only sigh. He looked towards Jess. “Why did you say that about Tony? Tyler turning on him.”

“Well,” she began, “I just kind of filled in the blanks. Clay was trying to make sure everybody got out of this.”

Justin shook his head. “Everyone except himself, apparently.”

“The only way Tony has a chance,” Jess continued, “is if Tyler had forced him to begin with. A chance of not getting a strike, I mean.”

“Jess is right,” Alex said. “Clay is in deep shit right now, but—the panic attack helps, real or not.”

“It was probably real,” Justin said, sighing again.

An officer came over to Justin and Jessica a short while later. With a pad of paper and pen in hand, she asked for their statements and to recount what they witnessed. Jess went first, and Justin went afterwards, and they both incorporated the revision of Tyler’s conscription of Tony.

“Tony showed up,” Justin said, “trying to help Clay out, but Tyler freaked out again when the sirens started and pulled out a second gun, and made Tony drive him away.”

“What was the second weapon?” the officer asked.

“A pistol, I think,” Justin said.

When they finished, another cop came over and cut loose the cuffs on his and Jess’ wrists. Justin stood in time to see Clay being hauled into the back of a police car.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Justin said, and he approached Deputy Standall as he spoke to one of the other cops. Jess and Alex followed him.

“Why are they taking Clay?” Justin demanded. The squad car chirped the horn, and he barely caught a glimpse of the boy in the back seat before it began to drive away. “Are they seriously arresting him?”

Alex’s father shook his head. “Clay isn’t cooperating. We’re bringing him down to the station for questioning.”

“He just had a fucking panic attack,” Justin went on. “He might still be having one!”

The deputy held up a hand. “Medical cleared him. We’re contacting his parents now.”

“Dad, this isn’t right!” Alex interjected.

“Don’t bother,” Justin huffed, and pulled out his phone. He turned to Jess and asked, “Are you gonna be all right?”

She nodded at him, offering a brief smile. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

Justin turned towards the parking lot as he dialed Mrs. Jensen. He sniffed and cleared his throat, trying to think of just what the _hell_ he was gonna say.

“Justin?” She answered after barely a whole ring.

“Clay’s been arrested,” Justin said, the words simply spilling out.

Silence. Then, “What? What happened? I heard sirens going by.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin went on, his voice breaking, “Tyler sent this text, and Clay tried to get everyone not to call the cops but someone did anyway and he managed to talk Tyler down but even after that Clay still—”

“Justin, Justin—sweetheart! Slow down, I—I can’t understand you.”

Justin stemmed the words flowing from his mouth. “I’m heading to the police station now,” he said slowly. “Can you please meet me there? I’ll—I’ll explain everything there.”

Mrs. Jensen agreed, and they ended the call. Once Justin made it to Clay’s Prius, he found the spare key behind the passenger seat and pressed it against the start button, springing the vehicle to life. “Oh my God,” he sighed, thinking to the night Clay had gone _there_ and how Justin had wasted precious minutes trying to figure out how to start the fucking Prius because the boy had intentionally crippled the second key, and started backing out before he could collapse into tears against the steering wheel. He just had to keep going, going, going—focus on driving. Getting to the police station. Getting to Clay. The fucking idiot.

Because it was gonna be a long fucking night.


	7. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay's parents head to the police station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interlude, of sorts, as the next section proved far too important not to exist as its own chapter.

Justin arrived at the police station in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Jensen stepping out of their Prius, and they were both dressed like they were going to court. Or as if they’d always dressed for formal occasions when going out at near midnight. Justin pulled into the first empty spot he found and sprung from the car after setting it in park. As Clay’s parents made for the entrance, Justin called out to them, and they stopped to face him as he ran up to them.

“Justin, thank goodness,” Mrs. Jensen said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Justin managed to say.

“We got the call as we were already on our way over here,” Mr. Jensen said. “What on earth is going on?”

Justin shook his head, unsure of where to even begin. He decided to start with the dance, and how everything was normal, and everyone was just having a good time, then moved onto the sudden text from Tyler, and how Clay had sprung into action.

“He told everyone not to call the police?” Mrs. Jensen asked, her face taut.

“He—he was trying to save Tyler,” Justin said. “He and Tony. Clay found Tyler first, and talked him down.”

“Were you there to see it?” she went on.

“I, I was only there for a little bit. I found them outside, and Jess was with me. Tyler pointed the gun at us, so we ran back inside the school.”

“Dear God,” Mr. Jensen remarked.

“What happened next?” Mrs. Jensen pressed.

Justin shrugged, and said Tony must have found them. He told her the same thing he had told the police about Tyler making Tony help him escape, and hoped Clay wouldn’t later contradict him. Justin went on to recount how Clay wound up with the gun, and how the boy seemed to freeze up.

“He said he was trying to help Tyler,” Justin said. He wasn’t entirely sure how much the truth would help—or hurt—Clay, so he improvised something in between. “I—I think he was starting to have a panic attack. I tried to get him to put the gun down, but Clay wouldn’t listen. Or maybe he couldn’t. The cops showed up when he still had the gun on him and they thought he was the shooter.”

Mrs. Jensen sighed as Mr. Jensen asked, “And they still arrested him?”

“Alex’s dad, the deputy, said they were bringing him here for questioning,” Justin answered. “He said Clay wasn’t cooperating.”

Mrs. Jensen stepped towards Justin and grasped his shoulders. “What exactly did Clay say to you?”

Justin swallowed. He didn’t want to lie to her. Hell, she probably already knew he wasn’t telling her something. “He said he needed to buy time for Tyler and Tony to get away.”

Mrs. Jensen took another deep breath and looked towards Mr. Jensen before making for the door. “Come on, let’s go inside,” she said.

She was all business when she stepped up to reception, powering up lawyer mode in a flash, but Justin could still see her trembling slightly as she spoke. “I’m Lainie Jensen. I received a call that my son, Clay Jensen, was brought in for questioning. I need to see him.”

The cop made a phone call, and a short moment later, another cop appeared from a back doorway and motioned her to come through. As the place seemed largely empty, Justin figured most of the cops must have gone out to respond to the school.

Or to search for Tyler and Tony.

Mrs. Jensen asked Matt and Justin to wait for her before she walked through with the police officer. Justin followed Mr. Jensen towards the lobby and they took seats beside each other. They had the whole place to themselves.

“It’s been— _years_ since Clay’s had a panic attack,” Mr. Jensen said after a moment. He looked towards Justin. “Are you sure that’s what it was?”

“I don’t know,” Justin said quickly. “I had no idea what Clay was thinking. Maybe he was so freaked out, he couldn’t think straight.”

Maybe he had gone _there_ again. Could he have?

Mr. Jensen let out another sigh. “Well, I’m glad you and Jess were there for him. Who knows what could’ve happened.”

“It’s a good thing Clay was there to begin with. The night could’ve been a hell of a lot worse if—if he hadn’t.”

Despite his anxiety, Justin couldn’t deny the difference Clay had made. Now, he could only hope that Mrs. Jensen would be able to pull the boy out of this mess.

After what seemed to be ten or fifteen minutes, Clay’s dad got up and began to pace. After a few moments of pacing, he walked up to the vending machine and said to Justin, “Want anything?” When Justin declined, Mr. Jensen pressed a few buttons and popped out two candy bars, one of which he gave to Justin when he sat back down.

“Thank you,” Justin said quietly.

“I’ll make a coffee run, too, if you decide you need it,” Mr. Jensen said, taking a bite of his candy bar.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

Not wanting to offend Clay’s dad, Justin partially unwrapped the Snickers bar and slowly started to chew away at it. He sat back against the chair, unable to keep himself from thinking back to the last time he was here. That day. When Jess decided to tell her story. Incredible, how time had flown by. And maybe ironic, too, because they just couldn’t seem to get away from this shit.

“Was it really your idea,” Justin eventually blurted out, “I mean, to adopt me? You and, and Mrs. Jensen’s?” He kept his gaze towards the floor.

Mr. Jensen regarded him for a moment. “It was Lainie’s, but we ultimately agreed it was the best course of action. I even had Clay’s old bike fixed for you.” Justin looked at him, confused. “I mean,” Clay’s dad went on, “another Prius would’ve been a bit much.”

Justin grinned. “Thank you.”

“Seriously, though, you can call me Matt.”

“Okay,” Justin said, forcing a chuckle, “Matt.”

“You know, I’ll admit, I was skeptical at first, but I think you’ve ultimately been a good influence on Clay.”

At that, Justin couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “What?”

“I know, I know,” Matt said, gesturing a sign of patience, “hiding you at first, lying to us, and so on. Lainie would probably disagree with me, but I’d always been bracing for the years of teenage rebellion just after Clay hit puberty. I’d always feared he might direct it inwards, or at us, but I’m more relieved than anything that he’s—he’s found something he truly believes in. Something he feels that’s worth fighting for. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that it’s something that I can agree with. Or, at least see where he’s coming from.”

Justin felt a brief jab of panic deep in his gut. Did Mr. Jensen know? “So you’re saying I’m a good cause, then?” Justin smiled.

Clay’s dad shook his head. “I don’t mean it like you’re some stray or anything like that. No. I’m just proud that he has the courage to stick his neck out for his friends. To do what he believes is right.”

“I wonder where he got it from,” Justin said, grinning.

Matt laughed. “That’s mostly his mother. I mean, sure, I was somewhat of an activist in my youth—it’s how Lainie and I met—but, honestly, the things you kids have to deal with these days? Bullying is timeless, but your generation today—it’s taken things to a whole other level.”

Justin took another bite of his candy bar and took a moment to chew. “Are you mad at Clay?”

Mr. Jensen let out a deep sigh. “I don’t have all the facts yet to decide. Not that I don’t believe you, of course. It’s just hard to say right now without him here. I’m just thankful he’s okay—physically, at least—and that nobody was hurt.”

He looked towards Justin and patted his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. Truth be told, I’m grateful for Clay to have the chance to have a kind of sibling in the house.” Matt paused to finish his candy bar. “Clay was somewhat—unplanned, and please don’t ever tell him that, and Lainie and I never really agreed on a time to ever try for a second child.”

“Did you want another child?”

Matt shook his head. “It’s complicated. But at any rate, we got Clay a dog when he was a little boy. A compromise, I guess.” He smiled.

Justin smiled back at him. “Yeah, I’ve seen those pictures in the living room.”

Clay’s dad seemed to grow nostalgic. “Clay loved that dog. We all did, even though she could be a bit of a handful. Unfortunately, she got sick, and we had to put her down way before her time. Of course, I can still only guess, but I think that had been the source of his anxiety as a boy, and ultimately colored the rest of his experiences growing up.”

Justin tried to think of something else to say, but eventually decided to stay silent. The thought of a young Clay being sad and crying over his dog prodded at the back of Justin’s throat and he just couldn’t think of something like that right now. Not after how the night had gone so far.

They waited. After about an hour, Matt told Justin he was going to run down the street for coffee and that he’d be back in soon. He returned in around ten minutes with a decaf for Justin, and they continued to wait.

“Is this a bad sign that we haven’t heard anything yet?” Justin asked.

“I’m not sure.” After a moment, Matt went up to the receptionist, and after a brief conversation, returned to Justin with a shake of his head. “They’re still questioning him.”

Justin sighed. Okay, so this was bad. Were they—seriously—going to put Clay in jail? More than anything, he wished he could switch places with Clay. At least this way, they would both be used to it. Justin couldn’t begin to imagine being on the other side this time, no matter how brief.

After almost another excruciating hour, one of the doors past reception opened and Mrs. Jensen appeared—with Clay beside her.

“Clay!” Justin called out, springing up to meet them. He stopped just before the boy, who seemed okay, but looked utterly defeated. It didn’t matter at that second, though, because Justin would get to that later. He hugged Clay, then pulled back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’m fine.”

“Jesus,” Justin said with a sigh, “what the hell were you thinking?”

“All right, all right,” Mr. Jensen cut in, prompting Justin back, “I think we all could use a cooling off period.”

Justin looked to Mrs. Jensen. “Is he free? We can go?”

Lainie couldn’t seem to help the disappointed look on her face as she regarded Clay. Ouch. “On _extremely_ tenuous ground, but yes. Ultimately, the chief decided that there wasn’t enough to hold him. _For now_ , at least.”

Clay remained silent and kept his eyes towards the floor. Mr. Jensen grasped the boy’s shoulders and nudged him towards the exit.

“Come on,” Matt said, “let’s go home.”

He suggested he ride with Clay while Justin ride with Lainie, which made sense. It was clearly to save Clay from his mother’s wrath, although Justin wasn’t sure if he was ready to face that, either. Justin rode with her, and was too nervous to say anything.

After several minutes in silence, Mrs. Jensen eventually said, “I’m sorry things took so long.”

“You, you don’t have to apologize for that,” Justin said.

“I know. But still, _apparently,_ they deemed it necessary to make us wait. They said it was due to a ‘lack of resources,’ but it would’ve been fine, if only Clay would have spoken to me in the meantime.”

Clay’s mom obviously needed to vent. Probably the best thing he could do for Clay was to help her release some steam. “Wouldn’t they record everything, anyway?”

“We had privacy, and that would still be privileged should it come to—beyond just the police, so inadmissible, but I think he was just being stubborn.”

“Can you be his lawyer and his mom?”

“It’s not ideal, but there’s no rule against it, per se. Thankfully, he eventually told me the plan he’d improvised.”

“Can you fill me in?” Justin asked. “Because I wasn’t there for most of it.”

Mrs. Jensen sighed. “It’s not a very good plan, and can frankly bring him and Tony a lot of trouble, but—I suppose, given the circumstances, it was all they had to work with.”

She told Justin that Tony was going to get Tyler to a safe place and figure out what pushed Tyler over the edge. Tony would then try to convince Tyler to turn himself in, or go into hiding.

“How does Tony get out of that without getting done in with the police?” Justin said.

“Clay said that Tony would figure it out, somehow. He did mention that he had asked the others to state that Tyler forced Tony to help him escape.” She shot Justin a piercing glare, and he wanted to shrink into his seat. “When it came up, the officer mentioned your and a few other corroborating statements to that effect.”

“I’m sorry,” Justin said quickly.

“Lying to the police is a very serious offense. Remember, you’re on probation, Justin.”

Justin cleared his throat. “I know.”

Lainie sighed again. “Thankfully, there doesn’t appear to be any cameras or footage to dispute that part of the story. Most of the time after that they spent focusing on Clay and Tyler’s relationship, and nearly everything they had been through in the past year.”

“When did they finally let him go?”

“Eventually, their line of questioning began to repeat. I took a gamble, and pressed them to charge Clay, or release him. Given his actions at preventing a potential tragedy at the dance, I managed to persuade them not to commit to a twenty-four-hour hold. But that all comes down to Tony—and Tyler.”

Justin took a moment to digest the information. “He really did save everybody at the dance. If Clay hadn’t have been there…”

Clay’s mom inhaled deeply, then sniffled. “I know.”

They fell silent as Lainie continued to drive. As Justin felt the exhaustion finally setting in, he tried to find solace in the fact that they were going home, and that no one had been seriously hurt. He believed in Tony, and he believed he could get Tyler to do the right thing.

In any case, the night could have gone so much worse.


	8. Say Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating goes up for this chapter.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

Mrs. Jensen was the only one to speak as they entered the house and went upstairs. Clay’s parents went to their bedroom while Clay made straight for his room. Justin stopped by the bathroom first, as he really needed to pee, before walking over to Clay’s room. The boy had left the door open, so Justin shut it behind him.

Only the bed lamp was on, rendering the room bright enough to seem like it was still dusk out despite it being almost three in the morning. Justin found Clay sitting on the bed, seemingly zoned out, and without any evidence that he’d made any move to change out of his clothes. Justin stepped towards the closet and began loosening his tie, but after the knot was undone, he slowed his hands before completely sliding the tie from his shirt collar. He avoided looking towards Clay’s side of the room, mainly because he wasn’t sure how he himself was feeling at the moment, or what he would even say to Jensen. Justin undid the button of his shirt collar, only to twiddle his fingers at the next button.

The room was utterly silent. For a moment, Justin merely stood, and continued facing the closet. The last time he remembered being in such quiet, he was in a cell.

“Are you pissed at me?” Clay spoke. Barely above a whisper.

Despite himself, Justin couldn’t swallow the bolt of anger that shot through his core. He yanked the tie from his collar and tossed it on the couch. “Yes, I’m fucking pissed at you.”

The boy cleared his throat. “I take it you aren’t coming to bed, then?”

Justin turned towards him. When Jensen looked up and met his gaze, Justin swallowed and bit back the bitter retort he almost let spill out. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as angry cuddling, Clay.”

“Do you—wanna find out?” Clay said, offering a weak smile.

Scoffing, Justin shook his head. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?” When Clay looked away, Justin stepped towards him. “Why the _hell_ couldn’t you have just put the fucking gun down?” he snapped.

“Please, Justin,” the boy uttered, his voice breaking, “please don’t yell at me right now. My mom already ripped me a new one, I—I can’t…”

Justin sighed. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then sat beside Jensen on the bed. “Look, I—I get why you did what you did for Tyler, talking him down. You stopped something that could’ve been really fucking tragic and terrible. But did you _really_ have to throw yourself on the sword like that? Or the gun, in this case?”

Clay sniffled. “We’ll probably disagree on this, and yeah, maybe there was something else I could’ve done, but I didn’t see it. Not right then.” He looked at Justin. “The fact is, all those cops that were on me? Those were less cops on Tony and Tyler. You get what suicide by cop is, right?”

Swallowing, Justin said, “Yeah, I do.”

Jensen shook his head. “I couldn’t take that chance. I just couldn’t.”

Justin sighed again. “They could’ve fucking shot you. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I—I do now. I didn’t really believe it at the time, but yes, I—I do now.”

A swell of emotion burst inside of Justin and he looked towards the floor. He tried to suppress the echoing pangs of sheer panic from earlier in the evening. “Do you, do you have _any_ idea what that would’ve fucking done to me if—if something had happened to you tonight?”

When Clay didn’t respond, Justin went on, “Cops don’t shoot to hurt. They shoot to kill. You could’ve fucking died tonight, Clay.”

“But I didn’t,” the boy uttered.

Justin let out a frustrated sigh and stood up. “You’d already talked Tyler down. You could’ve let the police handle it from there. You don’t know how he would’ve been with the cops.”

“You, you didn’t see him,” Clay said, shaking his head, “you couldn’t see him like I could. He was broken, Justin. He needed help. There was no way the cops would’ve been able to pick up those pieces. Not like I could have.”

“But _why_ did it _have_ to be you?”

“Because it was my fault, okay?” the boy exclaimed.

“How was it your fault?”

“I hurt Tyler! I mean, I wasn’t the only one, but I was still one of them. And I ignored him, just like everybody else. He’d helped me before, after Bryce’s testimony, and I was in control of myself tonight—Tyler wasn’t—so you didn’t have to step in like you did. I would’ve handled it.”

“Wait,” Justin said, a realization dawning on him, “so it was _Tyler_ you got that gun from? That night that you’d almost… At Bryce’s?”

Clay took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Justin threw up his hands. “Great. That’s just fucking great. So this is the second time you almost could’ve died because of him.”

“Justin—I didn’t! I’m okay! Nothing happened. It could have—but it didn’t.”

Clay looked towards his lap. “I was thinking of everybody at the dance but—mainly, I was thinking of you. I never really pray. Ever. But I was praying that you wouldn’t come bursting through that door, and when you did, I just kept praying that you’d listen to me.” The boy sighed. “Thank god Jessica was there.”

He looked up at Justin. “You shouldn’t have gotten between the cops and me. I would’ve been fine. I knew what I was doing.”

Justin met Clay’s eyes for a moment, then slowly sat back down on the bed beside him. They held each other’s gaze. “Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to disagree there, because—because if something had happened to you tonight… If I, if I had—if I had lost you tonight…” As Clay looked away, Justin went on, “It would have fucking destroyed me, Clay. It would’ve fucking wrecked me, ‘cause I don’t know if—if I have it in me to go through something like that. Not after these past few months.”

The boy kept his eyes towards the floor. Justin swallowed, clearing his throat as he felt himself begin to tremble. He knew he had to keep his voice steady, but—as his heart began to pound against his chest—he realized it would probably still break. But there was no turning back. He was going to jump.

“I—I love you, Clay. I fucking love you. And, and not just like a brother.” Justin took another breath. “I’m _in_ love with you, all right?”

Justin could see Clay squeeze his eyes shut and a few tears fall down his cheeks before the boy sprung off the bed and spun around to face him. “No you don’t,” Clay spat, shaking his head rapidly, “you don’t. You can’t.”

“I do,” Justin whispered, his eyes beginning to well.

“I don’t believe you.”

Justin felt tears fall down his cheeks. “Clay,” he began.

“You can’t be in love with me,” the boy went on. “You—you might care for me. I, I can believe that, but—you can’t love me, or be in love with me. Not when you’re still in love with Jessica.”

Clay sniffled. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way you two still look at each other. I saw how she was whenever I mentioned you while you were still in lockup. There’s still something there. You can’t deny it.”

Justin groaned and hung his head. “She was right. I should’ve gone after you.”

A pause. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because—I don’t know!” Justin cried out. “You said you weren’t ready! I didn’t want to keep pushing, and…” He sighed. “I didn’t know what you were thinking. Or what you really wanted.”

Justin stood up. “Nothing happened, all right? We just talked. That’s it.”

Clay seemed to swallow. “About what?”

Forcing a humorless laugh, Justin said, “You. You and me. Alex. Me and her. She—she forgave me, you know. Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I believe it.”

“I know you and your mom were trying to tag team me, so I went for it.” Justin managed a brief smile. “I still can’t believe it, myself. But we just talked, okay? Nothing happened.”

“If she forgives you, then there’s still a chance for you two, isn’t there? Why not go for it?”

“Because she’s with Alex! And he makes her happy!”

“Justin—she is the entire reason you came back. She was the only way I could get you back. Even if she is with Alex, you aren’t going to fight for her?”

Clay spun his desk chair around towards the bed and sat down, sitting forward towards Justin. “What if—what if she said she wanted you back? That she wanted to give you another chance? Are you seriously telling me you wouldn’t take it?”

Justin shook his head. “What is even the point of hypotheticals? That’s not how things are. She thinks _we’re_ together,” he said, gesturing between himself and Clay, “or a thing, at least, and I didn’t correct her.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Justin couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Clay shrugged and shook his head. “Now I know you’re lying.”

Justin sat back down on the bed. “Look, I’m always gonna care for Jess, all right? I’m always gonna feel something—I can’t just turn that off. But, as I said, Jess and I talked, and even though she might have forgiven me, we both know we couldn’t go back to the way we were.”

“You actually said that?”

“We didn’t have to. She thought I was with you, and she’s with Alex. And the bigger thing was—we are both in completely different places, now. We didn’t need to say it.”

Justin looked towards the couch. “Our relationship wasn’t all bad, but, we spent so much of our time lying to each other, and I don’t like to think back on the kind of person I was when we were together. It wasn’t her fault, but I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to get between her and Alex.”

He looked towards Clay, who met his gaze. “I wanna go forward. With you.”

The boy’s lips quivered, and he looked ready to burst into tears, but he turned his head away and seemed to hold it together. But just barely. “How could you pick me?” he breathed. “How could you possibly want me—over her? She is— _amazing_. Funny, gorgeous, and—so strong. You could be a better person with her. You wouldn’t fall back.”

Justin got off the bed and knelt beside Clay, taking his hand and grasping his knee. “Clay— _you_ are all of those things, too. You’re the strongest, toughest bastard I know, with balls of steel to match.” Clay laughed, and Justin went on, “You are beautiful—I meant it when I said it earlier. And you’re so smart—about most things—and you care. _So._ Much. Tonight, everything you’ve done for Jess—that all proves it.

“When I think of you, when I think of being with you, everything is bright again—like there’s, there’s color in the world again. When I think of you, the future suddenly doesn’t seem so scary anymore, and it’s like I know who I am again, like I’m myself again. Like I’m _me_.”

He squeezed Clay’s hand as another tear fell down the boy’s cheek. “ _You’ve_ shown me how to be a better person. I _am_ a better person when I’m with you, and I wanna _be_ a better person, still. You make me feel like no one else ever has, and I wanna see where this goes. I wanna hang onto it. I don’t wanna lose it.

“I wanna be with you. I wanna be your boyfriend, Clay. I want you to be mine. I want us to be together, to be boyfriends—not brothers. I wanna shout to the world, ‘This is Clay fucking Jensen, and he’s my fucking boyfriend!’ I want everyone to know. I don’t care who knows.”

Justin leaned into the crook of Clay’s arm and pressed his nose into the boy’s side. He smelled really good. “What do I have to do, Clay?” he said into his shirt. “How do I convince you that you’re the one I want?”

Clay was quiet for a moment. “I have to tell you something.”

“Anything,” Justin uttered.

“After you left the dance, after talking with Bryce, Hannah’s song—our song, I guess, from last winter formal—came on, and I, I kind of had a moment.”

Justin looked up at Clay. “What moment?”

“It—I was fine. After that, though, I saw Jess leave the dance, and that, plus the song, made me realize—I had to do something. I had no way of knowing for sure, but I knew—Jess was going to find you. And I had to find you first.

“After one of my disappearing acts last year, my mom figured out how to turn on tracking on my phone, so after your disappearing stunt, I managed to turn it on for your phone and used it to find you before she could. So, I cheated.”

Justin laughed. “Okay.”

Clay gave a sad smile. “I just, I was desperate. I knew I had to find you first. That was the only time I ever actually used it, I swear. But, a part of me was just so afraid, I was afraid—if I didn’t take my chance then, I’d lose it forever.

“So, knowing that, if I hadn’t found you first, would things between you and Jess have gone differently? Would you still be saying all these things to me?”

Justin smiled back. “Well, you found me first. I guess we’ll never know. But—my feelings for you—they’re real. That wouldn’t have changed.”

Clay blinked another tear from his eye. “I’m scared, Justin.” He looked towards the ceiling for a moment. “I seem to really know how to pick ‘em,” he said, forcing a laugh. “Hannah. Skye. You.” He looked back at Justin. “I’m already there, but, if we do this—if I let myself _completely_ fall for you—there’d be no going back. Not for me, at least. If we stopped this now, it would still hurt, but—I could manage that. If we commit to this, I’d be all in, and I’ve never been _completely_ all in with anyone—ever—before. And it terrifies me.”

The boy took a deep breath. “We both have our issues. We can’t, like, _expect_ to be able to fix each other. Or put it all on the other for our wellbeing. I learned that the hard way with Skye.”

Justin nodded. “We’re not perfect. I know. But, like I said, you make me want to be a better person. You make me want to fix my shit. The fact is, I might have come back for Jess, but _you_ are the one that saved me. _You’re_ the one that brought me back, and not just physically.

“We won’t be able to rely on just each other to fix all our problems. _But—_ I know things are gonna be a hell of a lot easier with you by my side. So.” Justin stood up and moved in front of Clay. Bracing against the chair’s armrests, Justin leaned in towards Clay, stopping just far enough to see the boy smile.

“Can I kiss my boyfriend now?” Justin said.

Clay’s smile widened. “I think—that can be arranged. But, it’s, it’s not like we haven’t—done that before…”

Justin couldn’t wait any longer and closed the gap between them. When he met Clay’s lips, a chill enveloped Justin that almost immediately preceded a surge of warmth that spread throughout his core. As their lips began to wrestle, Justin inhaled Clay’s breaths, and he savored their sweet heat, their almost medicinal qualities, almost like they were the perfect balm—the perfect remedy—to such a shitty night.

Before losing himself entirely in their kiss, Justin drew back slightly, but rested his forehead against Clay’s. He was going to get the boy to open up, and he wasn’t going to lose that chance to veer off from safe, familiar territory.

“What did you have in mind?” Justin breathed, before making his way towards Clay’s ear. He could feel the heat radiating off the boy—despite Clay’s trembling—and could hear his shallow breaths, so Justin gently grasped the boy’s neck and shoulder to steady him before nuzzling his ear.

“What did you think of,” Justin whispered, “all those nights I was away?”

A soft moan escaped Clay as Justin began kissing and nuzzling his way down the side of the boy’s neck. He felt Clay reach up and grab his shoulder, almost as if to draw him back so that their lips could meet again, but as much as Justin wanted that, he wanted to hear Clay speak more.

“Justin,” Clay sighed.

“I’m listening,” Justin whispered, then pressed his tongue against the boy’s jugular. Clay moaned again, but didn’t continue speaking. Justin used the moment to suck on Clay’s neck before gently bearing down with his lips, evoking another moan from the boy. Justin slowly moved back up to Clay’s ear. “Tell me,” Justin uttered. He then jabbed his tongue into the boy’s ear, causing Clay to cry out with a voiceless gasp.

“Oh my god,” Clay breathed, and Justin couldn’t help smiling to himself. He’d done that to a few girls before, but Clay’s reaction was by far the hottest.

Justin drew back to face Clay. He could tease the boy all night, but what he truly wanted was a glimpse of Clay’s deepest desires. “Tell me,” Justin insisted, near voicelessly, “what was that one thing,” he paused to kiss him, “that pushed you over the edge?” Justin began to undo the boy’s tie and moved to start nuzzling the other side of Clay’s neck. “What it is,” Justin uttered between kisses, “that turned you on the most?”

Clay was making the faintest noises with his throat, but didn’t seem to be letting them get past his lips. Justin continued to kiss and massage Clay’s neck, and managed to get the tie loose enough to start unbuttoning the boy’s shirt. “I…” Clay began to say, and Justin nuzzled harder against the boy’s jugular. _That’s it,_ Justin said in his head, as if the boy could read his mind, _tell me what you want._

“I—I would think of you,” Clay murmured, “going down on me…”

Justin couldn’t help grinning. Great minds do think alike. He suppressed the grin and moved up to face him.

“See,” Justin whispered, “was that so hard?”

“You don’t have to,” Clay quickly said.

At that, Justin kissed him, hard, and jabbed his tongue deep into the boy’s mouth. He pried Clay’s mouth open wide and filled their kiss with as much tongue as he could. When Justin pulled back slightly, there was a quiet pop, and Clay was practically gasping for air.

“Whatever my boyfriend wants,” Justin uttered, “my boyfriend gets.”

Justin freed the tie from Clay’s shirt collar and dropped it on the floor before settling onto his knees. He looked up at Jensen with a smirk as he undid the boy’s shirt, button by button, while Clay seemed to gaze down at him in awe. Justin kissed his way down the skin he revealed as he gradually pulled the shirt open, and paused to peck around Clay’s stomach before finally kissing, and then tonguing, his bellybutton, which elicited from Clay another sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus,” Clay said, sighing.

With only one last button in his way—the one on Clay’s jeans—Justin undid it quickly, but looked back up at Clay as he slowly slid down the zipper. The boy looked simultaneously amazed and terrified.

“Is this okay?” Justin asked.

Clay nodded. “Yes.”

Once the zipper was fully open, Justin tugged at the jeans as Clay raised himself slightly, and when they were down to the boy’s ankles, Justin pulled them off completely, one leg at a time, before tossing them aside. Fully aroused at just the sight of Clay’s creamy thighs, Justin left Clay’s socks on and shifted his focus to the boy’s underwear. Clay’s arousal was starkly evident and barely contained by the light blue garment, as was the dark dot of excitement at the tip of Clay’s erection straining against the waistband.

Justin took a moment to appreciate the sight before glancing back up at Clay. “Beautiful,” he said, before pressing his face into the boy’s crotch and inhaling his raw, pure scent.

“Oh,” Clay moaned, and Justin felt the boy’s erection throbbing against his cheek before becoming painfully aware of his own erection choking in his slacks. But, it could wait, as the mere thought of pleasuring Clay—of giving the boy exactly what he wanted—was enough to keep his focus entirely on the throbbing cock before him crying out desperately for him to suck.

Pressing his lips gently into Clay’s sack, Justin kissed it through the fabric before nosing his way up the shaft and gently prying his fingers into the waistband of Clay’s underwear. As another moan escaped the boy, Justin tugged at the waistband as Clay lifted himself up again, allowing Justin to slide off the slender garment. He let it fall to Clay’s ankles, too engrossed by the sight of Jensen’s fully erect cock to pay it any more attention.

Grinning, Justin looked back up at the boy and said, “You trimmed.”

Clay was already flushed, but somehow, his cheeks reddened even more. “I—I, um, I normally trim. I just, I hadn’t, when—”

Justin cut him off by pressing his tongue in between Clay’s jewels and gently clawing his fingertips down the sides of Clay’s thighs. Clay breathed another sigh of pleasure as Justin lapped his tongue upwards over the shaft all the way to the tip, tasting the sweet, cool dab of excitement oozing out of Clay. Justin made his way back down to kiss one of Clay’s jewels, taking it between his lips and gently poking it with his tongue, before repeating the gesture on its twin and making Clay utter another moan of satisfaction.

As Clay’s erection began to shudder more rapidly, Justin figured he had given Clay’s balls their due and began to kiss and lick his way up the shaft again. Clay had sizable girth, but was the perfect size that Justin figured he could, with enough effort and practice, take him entirely down to the shaft. He glanced up to see Clay watching him intently, and the hunger in his eyes was almost palpable. Justin moved downward to make one last upward lick with his tongue because, he knew, the buildup was just as important—if not more—than the act itself.

When Justin reached the tip, he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the head before slowly gliding downward and letting Clay’s dick slide across his tongue. Clay let out another airy _oh my god_ as Justin let the head reach the back of his throat, and was pleasantly surprised his gag reflex did not trigger. He sucked a bit harder as he drew up the shaft again, and moved gradually to establish a gentle bobbing motion as he caressed Clay’s manhood with his tongue.

Clay grasped Justin’s hair and Justin looked up to see the boy gazing down at him, still. When their eyes met, Clay tilted his head backwards and said, “Oh my god, Justin…” before he felt Clay tugging him upwards slightly. “I’m close,” the boy whispered.

Releasing the boy’s cock, Justin grinned. Although he knew he wasn’t _that_ good, he didn’t blame Clay. “We’ll work on that,” Justin said, “and trust me, I’ll learn your tells, but I wanna suck my boyfriend’s dick a little more before he blows. Think you can manage that?”

Clay laughed. “I’ll try,” he said quietly.

Justin grasped Clay’s shaft with his left hand and gently stroked it with his thumb, not that it needed any help staying hard. “Where did you picture it going?” Justin asked. “Down my throat—or all over my face?”

Clay’s smile faded as his cheeks reddened again. Justin felt the boy’s erection twitch in his hand.

“In your mouth,” he said, nearly inaudible, “but you don’t have to swallow.”

“Mmm,” Justin vocalized, “I’ve always wanted to know what my boyfriend tastes like.”

Sliding his hand downward, Justin tilted the boy’s erection at just the right angle so he could take Clay in his mouth again. Clay let out another erotic grunt as Justin sucked and licked up and down his shaft, throwing in an occasional swirl as he grew satisfied that he could let the head hit his throat without gagging.

When Clay’s moans suddenly intensified, and as his grip on Justin’s hair tightened, Justin sped up his bobs and sucked even harder, twisting his tongue around the boy’s shaft right before a jet of heat slammed against the back of Justin’s throat and as Clay shuddered and cried out, drawing out a long _ohh_ as the boy’s come rapidly filled his mouth. The force and the volume—and the heat—took Justin by surprise, and he felt quite a bit seep past his lips before he could begin to swallow. Stopping his bobs, Justin let the action of his swallowing draw out Clay’s orgasm, and as the boy continued to moan as he came, Justin realized it had to have been a while since Clay last got off.

He must have been saving up for this moment.

When Clay’s cock stopped throbbing and began to soften, Justin pulled back slowly—drawing out one last suck—before letting it spring free from his lips with a pop and slapping against the boy’s stomach. Clay cried out again and shuddered with the action before gazing back down at Justin.

“Fuck,” Clay breathed.

“Fuck,” Justin echoed, grinning as he swallowed the last bit of Clay’s come (which didn’t really taste like anything, to Justin’s surprise). He stood up, wiping away a bit of come from his chin with his wrist, before resting against the chair’s armrests again and leaning in towards Clay. “Am I still allowed to kiss you?”

“You better,” Clay said, then grasped behind Justin’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. To Justin’s continued surprise, Clay was the one to invade his mouth this time with tongue, and the boy seemed to be searching—exploring—for something. A taste, perhaps?

When Clay pulled back, he said, “I’ve always wondered what I taste like.” Justin burst out laughing.

“Jensen, you are fucking amazing,” Justin whispered.

“You, too,” Clay whispered back. “You _sure_ you’ve never done that before?”

“Never.”

“Your performance speaks otherwise.” They laughed.

Justin rested his forehead against Clay’s. _“So_ ,” Justin said, “have I _finally_ convinced you?”

“Mmm,” Clay began, “I’d say—ninety-nine percent convinced.”

When Justin fell back to gape at him, Clay grinned. Justin whined, “Aww, come on! I want a hundred percent! How do I get that last one percent?”

Clay’s grin widened. “Keep kissing me, and you’ll find out.”

Justin was all too happy to oblige, and sprung forward to bring their lips crashing together once more. Justin felt his erection shudder against his slacks again, and although he couldn’t stop himself from imagining all the things he wanted to do with Clay—like getting him on the bed and showing him just how much Justin really loved him—their kisses were practically all he needed right then to bring himself to climax. Even though Clay had already come, Justin could sense the boy might be ready to go again in just—

_“Holy—_ shit.”

Justin and Clay snapped their gazes towards the voice to see Tony at the open window, his leg just barely over the windowsill. Clay looked back at Justin in horror.

_Well, fuck,_ Justin thought.


	9. Him

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

As Tony climbed through the window, Justin stepped out of the way as Clay shot up from the chair and pulled up his underwear. The boy cried out Tony’s name as he frantically began searching the floor for something.

“Seriously, Clay?” Tony went on, gesturing at Justin as his voice steadily rose in pitch. “Him? _Him?”_

“What do you mean, _him?”_ Justin demanded. He didn’t like Padilla’s tone.

“Justin!”

“I mean, _you!”_ Tony spat.

“Tony!”

“What _about_ me?” Justin repeated. Clay seemed to find what he was looking for and was struggling to put his jeans back on.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony pressed, stepping towards Justin.

“What’s it to you?” Justin snapped back, not backing down.

Clay cut between them, his jeans not completely fastened. “Tony, come on. Could we—pause this for a second? What happened with Tyler?”

Tony gave a bitter laugh, turning away from them. “No no no no, I don’t think so. We—cannot just gloss over this. No way.”

“What’d you expect?” Justin spat. “You’re the one who came barging in here. You should’ve knocked—if you didn’t want a show.”

“Justin!” Clay said.

Tony spun around. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? After all the crazy shit tonight, _now_ you decide to go gay for each other?”

“That’s— _not_ what happened!” Justin insisted.

“Tony—” Clay began.

“Really? Then, _this,”_ Tony cried out, gesturing wildly at the chair, “what the _hell_ was this?”

“What, you never seen a blowjob before?” Justin retorted.

“Justin!” Clay repeated.

“Dude,” Tony went on, “don’t try and be smart with me. I cannot fucking take you seriously right now.” He gazed towards the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, you’ve still got come on your chin. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Justin rubbed his chin, wiping away the last bit of dampness. “Don’t kink-shame me.”

Tony shrieked with a brief laugh and exclaimed, _“What?”_ before starting to pace and shake his head. “Clay, do something with him,” he went on, waving Justin off. “I’ve had enough of him right now.”

“Justin,” Clay said, stepping before him and grasping his shoulders, “please, come on.”

“What?” Justin whined, indignant. “Why are you yelling at me for? _He’s_ the one that ruined our moment!”

“I know,” Clay assured gently, “I know, but, trust me—we will have _plenty_ more moments, okay?”

Justin inhaled deeply but quickly exhaled. “You promise?”

“Yes!” Clay reassured, nodding. “But right now,” he went on, turning towards Tony, “we have a much bigger mess we need to clean up right now.”

As Tony burst out laughing, Justin couldn’t keep himself from deflating. When Clay looked back at Justin, he must have seen it, and the boy surprised him with a brief kiss. It made Justin smile, despite the _oh god_ from under Tony’s breath.

Tony stood still. “How long as this been going on?” he asked. “Tell me that, at least.”

Clay stepped beside Justin and shrugged. “A while, I guess,” the boy replied.

“We were just now figuring things out,” Justin added.

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you can call that. Wait—you just got back, like, two days ago.”

“Before that, okay?” Clay cried out, gesturing upward. “Before he got sent down. Maybe even longer.” Justin glanced towards Clay. The boy went on, “Could we please talk about you, now? And Tyler? What— _happened?”_

Sighing, Tony sat down on the couch. “Look, my bad, all right? It was just a shock, that’s all. It’s been a long fucking night.”

Justin wanted to throw in that it had been a long fucking night for them, too, with Clay getting taken in by the police. But, he kept silent, not wanting to derail the conversation any further. Justin decided to sit on the bed as Clay zipped himself up, then took the chair and turned it towards Tony.

“Where is Tyler now?” Clay asked.

Tony let out another sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know. Not exactly, yet, anyway. We got lucky, and drove past just the one active police siren once we were away from the school. I took him up towards the mountains to get out of the city, but for a good while, he was just quiet.”

Looking between Clay and Justin, Tony asked, “What happened at the school?”

That brief spark of anger flared within Justin, but he managed to stay quiet. Clay said, “It’s not important. Keep going. Did you get anything out of Tyler? Did he say anything?”

“Not for a while,” Tony replied. “Technically, he was still armed, so I didn’t push my luck. We probably sat in the car for an hour or so before he eventually asked me what we were doing. I told him we were lying low and waiting for the cops to wind down their search. I figured word would have gotten out about us at that point. Finally, he asked what the plan was, and I told him that was largely up to him.”

“Did you come up with anything?” Clay asked.

“He didn’t say anything more for a while,” Tony answered. “Finally, I just laid it out for him. I told him I wanted to help him, and that I’d help him figure out a way. I just needed to know what got him to this point. He shook his head at first, and only said there was no way out of this. I told him he didn’t really believe that, or else he wouldn’t have listened to you.

“I asked him how he got into all the weapons, and he mentioned how he’d started talking with Alex’s dad a few months back, when Alex was still in the hospital, and how he’d actually gone with him to the shooting range a couple weeks back. I asked him if he thought he could manage a doomsday type of survival in the wilderness, and he admitted he had been looking into that kind of thing. Apparently that shit goes hand in hand.

“I started to throw some things out there, what he could be angry at. Hannah. The school. Eventually, I just flat-out asked if Bryce had done something to him. That’s when he said he couldn’t prove it.”

“So, Monty, then?” Clay cut in.

“That’s what I said. And that’s when Tyler seemed to flinch.” Tony rubbed his forehead. “I couldn’t really get the exact details, but all I know—it was something fucked up. I asked him if there were any witnesses, and he said he didn’t know who they were. So, I told him, we’ll figure it out.”

Clay huffed. “Fucking Monty.”

“Bryce wouldn’t have Monty do anything,” Justin said. “Not when he just got probation.”

Tony shrugged. “At this point, who knows? Monty could just be a free agent at this point. Either way, I told Tyler he had two options—he could hide, or he could turn himself in. Whatever he chose, I told him that we had his back.”

“What did he do?” Clay asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Tony said. “I stuck with the plan, and told Tyler to take my car and drop it somewhere. I left my phone in there so we could find it. Speaking of which.”

Clay nodded quickly and stood up to grab his phone from the desk. As he started tapping away at it, Tony went on, “I told him about how we were framing it as a carjacking of sorts, and Tyler was okay with that. He said he’d almost done worse, so, he said he’d go along with it.”

“But you don’t know if he’s going to run or turn himself in?” Clay posed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know which way I convinced him, one way or the other. He said he felt confident he could manage on his own on the lam, but I tried to tell him we had to report it to the school at least. If it’s on record, this blows back on them—especially after Hannah.”

Justin scoffed. “They’ll still find a way to cover it up.”

“I know,” Tony said. “I tried to tell him the police would go easier on him if he turned himself in, especially if he told them exactly what happened to him, but I don’t know if that changed his mind, either. Yeah, it would be time, but, it wouldn’t be the end.”

“I found it,” Clay said, and stood up to hand the phone to Tony.

“Well, great,” Tony said, “that’s all the way across town. It hasn’t been moving?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” the boy confirmed, sitting back in the chair.

“So, you just let Tyler go?” Justin asked.

“We talked a little more,” Tony answered. “I told him, over and over, we had his back. Whatever happened in the past—things were different now. I told him we had put a lot on the line for him, and we weren’t going to give up on him.”

“How did he seem? Before you let him go?” Clay said.

“Well, I got the gun from him. I know what you’re thinking. I was thinking the same thing. He gave it to me willingly. I told him I’d get rid of it.”

“Did you?” Clay asked.

“Yes. I wouldn’t bring a gun here, Clay.”

Justin couldn’t help the pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. No doubt something he’d have to fess up to later.

“So, what now?” Clay went on. “I’m glad you came here to fill us in. I figured I wouldn’t hear from you until at least the morning. I’m sorry we were—occupied.”

Tony snorted a laugh. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have missed me. But anyhow, you were closer, so I’d figure I’d crash here and go to the police first thing in the morning.” Tony held up his hands. “Hopefully, all the statements line up, and I won’t get arrested.”

“You won’t,” Clay insisted. “It makes sense. It’s almost—four in the morning. You crash here, then report your car in the morning. It’s plausible.”

Tony eyed Clay for a moment. “How _did_ you go through with buying us time to get away?”

Clay hung his head, and Tony glanced at Justin. It probably wasn’t helping that Justin was giving Clay the stink eye.

“I, I made it look like that I was—the shooter. To the police.”

Tony sat back on the couch, clearly aghast. He looked towards Justin. “Is he fucking serious?”

“It’s true,” Justin said.

Tony let out a few Spanish words under his breath, likely curses. He must have been _really_ pissed. Almost as much as Justin had been.

“I know it was stupid, but it worked,” Clay said.

Tony sighed. “Well, you’re here, so they must not have fucking believed you.”

“No, they believed it at first,” Justin cut in. “They took him to the police station.”

“They _arrested_ you?” Tony exclaimed.

“No!” Clay insisted. “Not officially, no. It was just questioning.”

Tony sighed again. “You better thank your white-privileged ass they didn’t shoot you on sight.”

“Do we have a way to contact Tyler?” Justin asked, trying to spare Clay the additional aggro. “How do we know what he decides to do?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Tony said. After another sigh, he then spun himself across the couch, then tucked one of the pillows under his head. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to crash. I’m fucking exhausted. We can figure out the rest of this shitshow later.”

Tony looked at them. “You two— _better_ not even _think_ of doing any funny business while I’m here.”

Clay stood up and turned off the light, and Justin smiled when he saw Clay’s cheeks burning. He made room for the boy on the bed and lay back as Clay slid onto his stomach on top of the covers beside him.

“You aren’t gonna change?” Justin said quietly.

Clay shook his head into the pillow, then turned to meet his eyes. “Hold me?”

Justin bit his lip, hesitating. “I know—we’re exhausted,” he whispered, “but…”

“But what?”

Justin squirmed, which made the bed bob slightly. “You never actually said it.”

“Said what?”

“That you’ll be with me.”

Clay seemed confused. “Didn’t I?” he said, then smiled when Justin pouted. “Sorry,” the boy went on, “my bad. I was getting to that, I promise. I _do_ wanna be your boyfriend, Justin. I want us to be together.”

Justin grinned back at him. “Just checking. You sure morning Clay isn’t going to change his mind?”

Clay chuckled. “No, morning Clay is—I am _not_ going to change my mind in the morning. Or feel differently. You’re stuck with me now.”

Justin glanced up over toward the couch. “You think Tony’s asleep?”

Clay suppressed a laugh and buried his face back in his pillow. “Please don’t tempt me,” he whispered.

“All right, all right,” Justin said. “Here, let me hold you.”

Clay settled himself closer to Justin, who wrapped his arms around the boy.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he just passed out,” Justin went on.

With no response from the boy, Justin felt Clay’s breathing fall into that regular rhythm of slumber. He gave the boy a gentle hug and kissed the top of his head before letting himself release the last bit of tension in his body.

It was easy to do, with everything he wanted right between his arms.


	10. Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay manage to find a moment for themselves.

Consciousness returned to Justin like someone flipping on a light switch. He opened his eyes to find the room brightly lit, and his momentary panic at having slept for too long was immediately soothed by the warm presence snuggling beside him at that moment. Justin was on his back, and Clay was settled next to him, but they had somehow swapped sides on the bed. They were still on top of the covers, and still in most of their clothes from the dance. Clay was breathing steadily in quiet slumber, his arm draped across Justin’s chest.

So the boy was definitely a cuddler. Justin grinned to himself, realizing that he could get used to this. Waking up next to Clay. His boyfriend.

Justin kissed the top of Clay’s head before glancing over at the bed stand. Clay’s phone rudely indicated that it was past eleven o’clock. This was the latest Justin could remember sleeping in a long time.

He then remembered why they were up so late, and spotted the empty couch. Tony was long gone.

He brought his free hand up towards Clay’s cheek and started to gently caress his face. After a moment, the boy’s breathing quickened, and he began to stir. Clay let out a strained whine, so Justin started planting kisses on his forehead.

“Morning, beautiful,” Justin said between kisses.

Clay pulled away and stretched, continuing to whine. He was clearly protesting being woken up. Justin laughed at the noise the boy was making, and how he still seemed to be incapable of words, before chasing him across the bed to nestle against him. As he draped an arm across Clay’s chest, the boy settled onto his back, and Justin looked up to see a smile on his boyfriend’s face.

“Morning,” Clay finally croaked. He wrapped his arm around Justin. “Were you watching me sleep again?”

“No,” Justin said into the boy’s shoulder, “I only just woke up. I swear.” Clay laughed.

“What time is it?”

“After eleven.”

“Oh my god.”

Justin chuckled. “Is that still too early?”

Clay shook his head. “No, it’s not that. Any minute now, my mom is gonna come knocking on that door. She never lets me sleep in this late if she can help it.”

“Even under the—special circumstances?”

“I have no idea.” Suddenly, Clay seemed to remember Tony, too, and looked over at the couch. “Shit, do you know when he left?”

“Nope,” Justin said, shifting upwards to meet Clay’s eyes, “but I don’t wanna talk about Tony right now.”

Justin’s erection never really went away completely—even when Tony had walked in on them. And now, it was back with a vengeance. Justin couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He grasped Clay’s neck and began to kiss him. Hard. He savored Clay’s reaction, at how readily the boy’s lips yielded to his touch before responding in kind. A soft grunt escaped Clay’s throat as Justin begin grinding against his thigh.

Justin felt the boy nudge him slightly, so he reluctantly pulled back.

“I know you never got the chance to get off,” Clay said quietly, “but I promise you, we’re gonna get interrupted.”

It was Justin’s turn to whine. “I’m so fucking hard, Clay.”

The boy smirked, then pushed Justin onto his back before climbing on top of him and straddling him. Clay began kissing him again as he started to unbutton Justin’s shirt.

“We,” Clay began, “we might—have to make this a quickie.”

“Anything,” was all Justin managed to say. It was hard to think with all the blood rushing to his cock.

Clay began to spar with his tongue as he started undoing Justin’s belt—right before there was a solid knock on the door. Their lips sprung apart with a _pop_ as they looked towards Mrs. Jensen’s voice.

“Clay? Justin? Sweetheart, I know we were late last night, but it’s time to get up. It’s important.”

Justin and Clay both burst out with silent laughter. When they didn’t say anything, there was another knock.

“Clay?” Mrs. Jensen called. “Justin? Are you awake?”

Justin continued to laugh silently as Clay managed to call out, “Yes, yes! I’m awake. We’re awake!”

“Please get ready soon. There are things we need to discuss.”

When it sounded like Mrs. Jensen had walked away, Clay looked back at Justin, still with a grin on his face. “I told you,” he uttered.

Justin cleared his throat, coughing a laugh. “This is fucking torture, Clay.”

“How long has it been?”

“Days.”

At that, Clay seemed to sober up. He pulled open Justin’s shirt, and further intensified the sweet agony as he began to grind their crotches together. Forced to take quicker and deeper breaths, Justin groaned.

“Will you come for me?” Clay whispered. “I wanna see my boyfriend come.”

Justin reached to undo the buttons on Clay’s shirt before grasping the boy’s shoulders. “You should probably take off your shirt,” he said, “‘cause I’m gonna make a fucking mess.”

Clay kissed him. “You better,” he breathed, and sat up briefly to toss his shirt on the floor. Justin quickly undid his slacks and slid them down—underwear, too—part way before gripping his erection. Clay leaned back over him to resume their kisses, and as Justin began to stroke himself, he was already plenty slick. No lube required. He reached with his free hand to grasp Clay’s chest, but with Jensen invading his mouth with that wild tongue of his, Justin barely needed any strokes to climax, and he found himself shouting, then moaning into Clay’s mouth with the force of the orgasm.

Clay pulled back and uttered, “Oh—fuck,” before moaning in sympathy with Justin, who continued to stroke himself thoroughly, wanting to fully empty his balls of come.

Justin glanced down to see a long, thin streak of white across Clay’s chest, but most of the product had landed on himself, the last of it pooling near his stomach. Justin let out a long sigh, grinning stupidly as the last remnants of the orgasm eased the tension from the rest of his muscles.

“That was fucking hot, Justin,” Clay said, grinning.

He grinned back at Clay. “You just—have that effect on me.”

The boy took a deep breath before rolling off of Justin. “Okay. Shower time.”

Sighing, Justin said, “I guess that’s me, then, huh?”

Clay smirked as he lay on his side. “Well, _you_ are the messy one right now.” As Justin started to get up, the boy said, “Wait, wait.”

Clay leaned over him and licked across part of the pool of come on his stomach. Justin could feel his heart practically stop as Clay smiled at him.

“I just wanted to know what my boyfriend tasted like,” Clay said.

Justin leaned over to give him another long, hard kiss. After parting from the boy, he said, “Jensen, you are fucking amazing.”

Clay lay back on the bed as Justin stripped off the rest of his clothes and went to the closet to search for a towel. After wrapping it around himself, he made for the door. Right when he was about to open it, Clay called out to him.

“Hey Justin?”

Pausing, he faced Clay. “Yeah?” The boy was hiding his face behind a pillow.

Jensen peeked out above the pillow and said, “Never mind,” before shoving the pillow back in front of his face.

Laughing, Justin replied, “Silly.” Clay started giggling and spun away from Justin, who kept laughing as he stepped out of the room.

God damn, was his boyfriend fucking adorable.

~             ~             ~

When Justin returned to the room, Clay surprised him again with another kiss, pressing him against the door as it shut behind them. Justin was pretty sure he had only taken around ten minutes in the shower, but Clay seemed like he’d been waiting a lot longer than that.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Clay whispered as they made out, his hands spread across Justin’s chest.

After a quick moment of savoring Clay’s lips, Justin pulled back reluctantly. “You’re gonna get me hard again,” he said.

“I never stopped being hard,” Clay responded in a whisper.

Justin let out a low grunt just as Mrs. Jensen called out again from downstairs. They laughed.

“Dude, I really do not want to piss off your mom right now.”

Clay sighed, tapering his grin slightly. “Will you buy me some time, then?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Justin said, then smirked as he stepped aside. “Don’t take too long.” Clay laughed again as he opened the door and left the room.

Justin quickly threw on underwear, shorts, and a t-shirt before trotting downstairs. As he glanced towards the dining room, he found Deputy Standall standing beside Mrs. Jensen near the front door with Mr. Jensen sitting at the dining table.

“Oh,” Justin blurted, his steps slowing as he came towards the bottom of the stairwell.

 “Justin,” Mrs. Jensen said, her arms crossed, “is Clay on his way down?”

He shook his head. “He just got in the shower,” Justin answered.

She exchanged looks with Mr. Jensen before Deputy Standall came towards Justin. “That’s all right,” Standall said, “if I can at least get one of you to corroborate Mr. Padilla’s statement, I’ll take it.”

“Tony?” Justin asked.

“Was Tony here last night?” Mr. Jensen asked.

“Well,” Justin began, clutching his elbow, “technically early this morning. Yeah, he came in through Clay’s window.”

“Why did Tony come?” the deputy asked.

“He said Tyler let him go,” Justin said, “and he needed a place to crash. He was closer to here than home, and he needed help finding his car. He left his phone in it hoping Clay would be able to track it, and he did. I don’t know when he left, though. I fell asleep.”

Justin glanced around between Clay’s parents and the deputy. “Is Tony okay? Is he in trouble?” Justin pressed.

Deputy Standall shook his head. “No. Tony came by the station this morning to make his statement. We located his car shortly afterwards, but Tyler is still at large. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

Justin shook his head. “No.”

“What about Clay?” Standall went on.

“No,” Justin repeated. “Tony just told us what happened with him and Tyler, and what he thinks might have pushed Tyler to—to do this.”

The deputy nodded. “He mentioned that, too, but it’s really all just hearsay. We still need to find Tyler.”

Mrs. Jensen walked in front of Standall. “Is that all you needed, Deputy?” she said.

Standall forced a smile, then nodded. “Do contact us—if anything comes up.”

Mrs. Jensen opened the door to let the deputy out of the house. After shutting the door, she said, “The deputy was here earlier. I’m not sure any other officer would have been so—accommodating.”

Justin looked towards Mr. Jensen, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he gazed towards the table. When he noticed Justin’s gaze, Matt snapped out of it and indicated the kitchen.

“There are some pancakes from earlier,” he said. “They’re not from too long ago; I figured you two, uh, would be late—waking up. From last night.”

After a moment, Justin said, “Thank you.” It was all he could think of. Even after Mr. Jensen went towards the kitchen, and Mrs. Jensen sat down at the empty dining table, the air still seemed tense. Although Justin had been ready for things to be weird, he wasn’t quite expecting for Clay’s parents to be so—reticent. There was something they weren’t saying.

Justin began heading into the dining room when he heard footsteps and looked back towards the stairwell to see Clay coming down. “I saw the cruiser driving away,” the boy said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. “What did I miss?”

Mrs. Jensen had been rubbing her forehead. She looked towards Clay as Justin leaned against the entryway. “That was Deputy Standall. He wanted to corroborate the statement Tony made at the police station this morning.”

“I told them he was here,” Justin added.

“He’s not in trouble, is he?”

“He isn’t,” Mrs. Jensen said.

“Well, what did Alex’s dad say?” Clay asked, approaching them. “Did they find Tyler?”

“No,” Mrs. Jensen answered. “They found Tony’s car, but not Tyler.”

Clay sighed. “Great.”

“What did Tony suspect? Regarding Tyler’s—motivation?”

Clay glanced at Justin before answering. “He thought Bryce might have had something to do with it. Had Tyler attacked.”

“At school?”

“Probably,” Clay said.

“I don’t think so,” Justin cut in. When Clay and his mom looked at him, Justin went on, “I mean, I’m not sticking up for Bryce. I just don’t think he’d be that stupid.”

“Who allegedly attacked Tyler?”

“Tyler didn’t say exactly,” Clay replied, “but Tony thought it was Montgomery. From the baseball team. Most likely with others.”

“De la Cruz? The same boy who allegedly tried to run you over?”

 _And who had broken into the house to steal the gun,_ Justin thought _._ Clay met his eyes again, and Justin hoped his thoughts weren’t written all over his forehead.

Clay looked back at his mom. “Nothing we can prove,” he said with a shrug. “Yet.”

Mrs. Jensen looked toward Justin, then stood up from the table, looking back at Clay. “Why don’t you two get some breakfast? I think we’re in the clear—for now—but we still need to talk about last night.”

Clay’s shoulders dropped as he said, “Okay.”

Mr. Jensen had prepared two plates by the time Justin and Clay made it into the kitchen. Justin watched as Clay’s dad set maple syrup, a bowl of diced fruit, and a bottle of chocolate syrup at the center of the table next to a pitcher of milk. Right as he was about to leave the room, Justin asked, “Is everything all right?”

Matt seemed to be caught off guard. It wasn’t like him, to be unprepared for questions. “I think so,” he said quickly, “all things considered. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.” He then turned and left the room.

Clay was regarding Justin. “What was that?” the boy asked.

Justin grabbed the maple syrup and began to pour it on his pancakes. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He took a few bites of his pancakes (which were amazing, still), then looked back up at Clay.

“I think they know. About us.”

Clay met his eyes for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh. “They don’t, trust me.”

“Are you sure? They were both being totally weird.”

“They were probably just tired. And preoccupied. You’re being paranoid.”

“Am I?” Justin glanced toward the empty living room. “Wouldn’t you expect them to be more—all up in our business, you know, with the Tyler shit? Now it’s like, like they don’t know what to do with us.”

Clay smiled at Justin, and purposely cut a piece of pancake off of Justin’s plate to eat. Justin laughed. “Relax,” Clay assured, “you’re not going anywhere, if that’s what you’re worried about. No, I think it’s just—they don’t want to pick a fight this morning. That’s all. Aside from the good parts, obviously, last night was otherwise—still pretty fucked up.”

Justin exhaled deeply. Clay was right. As Justin thought about it, he realized news of the incident at school must have spread like wildfire, and he could only imagine what rumors were being flung about. Mr. and Mrs. Jensen must have tuned into some of that earlier in the morning.

They finished breakfast, and as they cleared up, Clay asked, “Did you wanna get out of the house for a bit?”

Grinning, Justin shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Don’t you, like, have any homework, though?”

“Very funny,” Clay said. He poked Justin in the arm. _“You_ have more homework than I do.”

“I was just saying!” Justin said, giving a quick laugh. “Your mom’s gonna ask.”

“We won’t be gone that long,” Clay insisted, his smile verging on the edge of mischief.

Mrs. Jensen caught them on their way back upstairs. “Clay,” she called, “did you have a moment, now?”

Clay audibly sighed as he stopped before his door. “Mom—I told you. I know it was stupid, now. _Really_ stupid. We _don’t_ need to go over that again.”

“Honey, I know—”

“Justin and I wanted to get out of the house for a bit. Is that okay?”

Mrs. Jensen almost frowned, but she hid it quickly. “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“I just—wanted to go for a walk,” Justin cut in. “We won’t go far.”

Clay’s mom pursed her lips, and it looked like her turn to sigh. “Don’t be too long. All right?” She turned and made for the master bedroom.

Clay looked back at Justin with another grin. “I could really get used to this sibling thing.”

Justin burst out with a silent laugh. “Dude!” he whispered, shoving Clay into his room.

“Seriously!” Clay said. “I could’ve gotten away with _so_ many more things if I’d just had somebody else with me to wear them down!”

“Your mom’s obviously worried.”

“She’ll be fine,” Clay insisted. “Do you really wanna be cooped up inside all day?” Smiling, Justin shook his head.

They changed into jeans, and Clay threw on a jacket while Justin pulled a hoodie over his t-shirt. When they stepped outside, the cloud cover had thickened, making it overcast and unseasonably chilly. Justin wondered if it might rain soon. Clay seemed to know where he was going, so Justin merely followed him. For a while, they simply walked.

After crossing another block over, Justin finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” was all he got out of the boy.

They walked for what seemed like another block before coming down a familiar side street. Justin felt his stomach tighten as he realized where they were headed. When a fateful slide with a toy rocket ship on top of it came into view, he wondered if Clay had finally gone crazy.

The boy had to be, to want to be with Justin.

They stopped on a slope just overlooking the park. “Eisenhower Park?” Justin asked.

“Eisenhower Park,” Clay confirmed.

Justin looked towards the boy, taking a small step towards the side. “Did—did you bring me here to murder me?”

Clay looked back at him. “What? No!” he scoffed. “Well, I guess I should have told you where we were going, but it was the only close place I could think of, and I wasn’t sure if you’d come if I had.”

“Why _did_ you wanna come here?”

The boy held out his hand towards Justin. “Come on.”

Fuck, why was he in love with this boy? Slowly, he took Clay’s hand and they stepped onto the park. They sat at a nearby bench facing the playground.

“Do you remember what the first thing you ever said to me was?” Clay asked.

Justin nearly cringed. “No. But I’m sure it wasn’t very nice.” He let his leg twitch, as the edges of a craving started prickling the skin underneath his hoodie. “I don’t like to think of myself back then. How I was.”

Clay grasped his knee, stilling it. “I know, but bear with me. You asked me, what I was looking for. Now, I’m sure we might have said a word or two to each other over the years, but we were standing in front of Hannah’s locker and it was before I got the tapes and…

“Anyway, you asked me what I was looking for, and it was a question I never thought to ask myself. _Really_ ask myself. About a lot of things.”

Justin stifled a laugh. “I really hated you back then. For no good reason, obviously, but I still hated you.”

Jensen smiled at him. “Well, you know what they say about hate, and love, and all that. Two sides of the same coin, I think?” They laughed. “Seriously, though, this,” Clay indicated the park before them with outstretched arms, _“this_ is where it all started for me, for real. I mean, it’s where a lot of shit started, of course, but I wanted to come here—for the same reason we wound up at the Crestmont over a month ago.”

Justin let a smile creep up his cheeks. “You remember that, huh?”

Clay grinned. “Of course I remember that. It was our first date.”

Justin burst out laughing. “Was it?” he asked coyly, letting his voice rise in pitch.

“Hey, I’d say so,” Clay said, smacking Justin’s thigh. “We got to second base.”

“Clay,” Justin said, giving the boy a look, “are we remembering that day differently? Or, do you not—know the bases?”

As Clay reddened, Justin let out another laugh as the boy said, “Shut up.” He then threw himself over Justin, who let out a shriek as Clay started tickling him. “I think I am gonna murder you after all!”

Justin fought him off half-heartedly, and after a moment of silliness, they sat back up. Clay cleared his throat. “What were we talking about, again?”

“Our last ‘date’ at the Crestmont,” Justin replied, using finger quotes to emphasize the word _date._

Clay grinned at him. “Right. As I was saying, what we did there—kind of transformed that place for me. I mean, yeah, it had been my place with Hannah, but now, it’s the first place where I finally overcame years of—suppressing a side of myself I’d been too afraid to, to explore.”

The boy took Justin’s hand. “Now, I’m not big into fate, or mystical forces, or any of that stuff, but that moment you asked me what I was looking for, it stuck with me, and I thought about it a lot while you were in lockup. You’ve really opened my eyes up to _so_ many things. And that’s why I wanted to come here, to transform this place. Not to forget about Hannah, of course, but to remark at how far we’ve both come.”

Clay regarded him. “I’m bi. And I have you to thank for—helping me realize it.”

Justin squeezed his hand. “I guess in a way, we have Hannah to thank, too, don’t we? For bringing us together.”

“Well,” Clay said, shrugging, “if there’s anything good to come out of all this—it’s one way to look at it.” He leaned back against the bench and sighed. “I dunno, I figured, this could be where we first… I don’t know. Our _second_ first date? Our first date as—boyfriends?”

Chuckling, Justin met Clay’s eyes, and after gazing at the boy for a moment, he leaned in for a kiss. When Justin pulled away slightly, Clay said, “Our first kiss as boyfriends?”

“We’ve kissed before, Jensen.”

“In public?”

“Outdoors?” Justin offered.

Clay laughed. “Stop poking holes in my logic, Foley. I told you I suck at this.”

Justin shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said, and kissed the boy again.

When they parted, Clay said, “First time I told you, ‘I love you?’”

Chills swept over Justin, and he could only gaze back at the boy before him. After a moment, he started to grin. “When did that happen?”

Clay’s expression grew somber, and he shrugged. “Maybe—when I watched them haul you away in front of the courthouse? Or, every time our twenty minutes were up? Or maybe the first time you testified, and opened up your pain to the world—on record?”

Clay took Justin’s hand. “I think you’re incredible, Justin. Despite everything you’ve been through, you’re still this—kind, and gentle, and caring soul. You have every right to just say, ‘fuck the world,’ but you haven’t. You haven’t given up on people.”

Justin inhaled deeply, sniffling slightly. “You’re giving me _way_ too much credit. I’ve definitely said ‘fuck the world’ many times.”

“Me too. But you came back. That’s what counts. And I think that’s why Jess forgave you.” Clay kissed Justin again, then pulled back. “And it’s why I love you, too.”

A tear escaped down Justin’s cheek. For a short while, he couldn’t speak, and simply gazed back at Clay.

Clay sat back, and let out another sigh. “And—I, I just wanted us to have at least _one_ public outing as boyfriends before—before I get arrested. Possibly.”

Justin jerked his head. “What?” he exclaimed.

The boy shook his head quickly. “I mean, I’m not getting arrested. But I might. One of the cops last night—he kept making out like I was Tyler’s accomplice. I denied it, naturally, but—I, I still didn’t really do myself any favors.”

Justin felt his heart rate pick up. “What the hell, Clay?”

“Please don’t be mad at me,” the boy said quietly, hanging his head. “I know, I know you’re still pissed, so I didn’t want to give you any more reasons to worry. My mom still thinks it’s a possibility, the longer the cops don’t find Tyler.”

Justin sighed. “We gotta find Tyler, then,” he said firmly.

“No, we don’t.”

“I’m serious!” Justin insisted. “I—I just _got_ you, Clay! I’m, I’m _not_ letting you wind up in jail like I did.”

Clay looked back at him, a slight frown on his face. “You don’t think I could handle it?”

 _“I_ wouldn’t be able to handle it, you being in there. And—I wouldn’t want you to.”

The boy looked back towards the playground, then leaned against him, resting his head on Justin’s shoulder. “Could we, could we just enjoy the quiet for a while? And the solitude?”

Justin brought his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder and rested his head against Clay’s. “Okay.”

As he looked towards the slide, Justin couldn’t help seeing a shadow of himself—his phone in hand—ready to take that awful picture as Hannah psyched herself up before letting herself slide down that slide. He could remember her counting down before she slid. Maybe a part of her knew what a pivotal decision that’d be. Maybe something in the universe was telling her, _don’t trust Justin Foley_.

He swallowed. As he watched himself—ready to take that picture of Hannah—he couldn’t help willing to the ghost of terrible pasts, _don’t do it. Don’t take that fucking picture. Don’t do it._

Because if he hadn’t, Hannah might still be here. She might even be the one here on the bench with Clay right now instead of him. She might have been the one Clay was supposed to be happy with. And Tyler might never have done what he did.

Seriously, what the fuck? What higher power would have deemed it so that Justin Foley would be with Clay, and not Hannah?

Justin swallowed, trying to force the insecurities away—along with the inevitable wispy tingles on his skin that preceded a craving. He took that picture. And Hannah wasn’t here. It was how things happened. And it was how things were. _Justin_ was on the bench now, here with Clay, and now the responsibility fell to _him_ to make the boy happy.

Justin spotted Hannah at the top of the slide, and she—she was smiling. Was she smiling at them?

_Don’t fuck it up._

Justin blinked, and she was gone. He wasn’t sure if he had merely thought the words, or if they were really Hannah’s voice. The possibilities weren’t mutually exclusive, but it wasn’t important, really. The message was clear enough.

Justin was with Clay now. _Don’t fuck it up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're coming hot off the heels of season 3, I might suggest you pause here, or if you must proceed, stop at the second-to-last chapter of the next part of the series if you're affected by issues raised in the show or if you're like me and found season 3 to be quite heavy...


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